


The Rainbow Mile

by LiamLogan



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Details of Violence, Fluff, Less Fluff More Angst, Logince - Freeform, M/M, completed fic, inspired by the green mile, strap yourselves in this is a long one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-01-13 11:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 35
Words: 54,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21243113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiamLogan/pseuds/LiamLogan
Summary: Inspired by The Green Mile by Stephen King. Logan is the boss in charge of keeping death-row inmates calm while they await their sentence, but as Dee starts to become a nuisance, and with the arrival of the strange Patton, it becomes clear that the prisoners may actually be the among the most normal things in Logan's life.





	1. Patton's Arrival.

**Author's Note:**

> Strap yourselves in because this is a long WIP. Trigger warnings: swearing, and some violence I guess but not really. And please suspend your disbelief for how the prison system works in here. It is purely fictitious for the sake of the story.

Thousands of nights had passed, but the eyes never became obscured, and the voice never muffled. Thousands of days had come and gone, and never one where Logan didn’t think about Patton, and how the greatest thing evolution had ever created was ripped from the earth, condemned, and scattered within the ground on which he walked, the air he breathed, and every living thing he touched; all was part of Patton, but nothing quite the same. Logan lamented every hour the loss that not only he had suffered, but humankind. His despair was made all the more worse, knowing that no society other than his in the prison would ever know what they had lost.

One night in particular, Logan found himself unable to fall asleep and let himself be consumed by whatever imagery his mind could conjure. He stared up at the ceiling in bed after having kicked the bedsheets away (much to the sub-conscious delight of Roman, who lay snugly amongst them), and saw again the soft brown eyes, those that weren’t quite the same, but almost mirrored Roman’s. The longer Logan gazed at them, the more they stared back at him, but they never changed from anything but a gentle, ethereal look. They blinked when Logan blinked, but slowly enough for him to admire the long eyelashes, and how nicely they lined his eyes. Everything about them was beautiful, and always had been, but to all but Logan, Roman, and Virgil, they were the eyes of a beast, to be abhorred and feared.

He recalled the first time he saw those eyes: twenty years ago when he had just been promoted to the head guard at Montfort Prison. He had seen hundreds of prisoners come and go, and all of them died one way or another; if they weren’t put in the chair to fulfil their death penalty, they had found a way to kill themselves, or be killed by another. Logan was becoming numb to seeing their deaths, no last words were ever unique anymore, and he’d stopped being able to mourn them with sincerity.

“I might have to quit soon.” He said to Roman, his fellow guard and a fairly new recruit, “it’s strange what somewhere like this can do to you.”

“What? Why? You have such a good role here, are you really willing to throw that away, and for what?”

“Alas, I’m growing too accustomed to seeing people die, Roman, and what will be left of the humanity in me if not sympathy for the dead?”

“Literally all you had to say was that you feel bad for not feeling bad anymore rather than speaking like a try-hard Victorian aristocrat.”

“I know,” sighed Logan, “but Dee just walked by and how would he know of my authority if not for my elevated lexis?”

“If you reduce yourself down to just your words, that’s a question of your authority already.” Roman replied. His words were snarky, but his tone far from malicious.

“Don’t test me.” Logan snarled, before breaking into a smile. The two strode down the corridor, checking each cell to ensure that everyone was still alive. The sound of their shoes clicking against the white floor echoed through, but the lack of extra sound unnerved Roman, who was unused to such silence, albeit one of calm and peace.

“Are they always this quiet?” He whispered in Logan’s ear.

“Generally, unless one decides to be a bother, and then it becomes a shouting-fest.”

“Strange,” interjected Dee, another new recruit just below Roman’s level, striding to catch up to them, “how unnerving it is when they’re content. Makes you think.” His eyes fell upon one particular cell whose inmate was peeking through the bars, harmless.

“Makes me think that you’re playing a bit of a dangerous game there, Dee.” Said Roman as he watched him approach the inmate.

“What do you mean?”

“A quiet person is not an innocent person. If I were you, I’d take your hands away from those bars.”

“Or what?” Dee teased. As Roman opened his mouth to argue, Logan put a calm hand on his shoulder to stop him. He turned to Dee.

“You have fun with whatever you’re doing.” He said with a smile. He and Roman turned on their heels with such synchronicity that Dee couldn’t help but be envious.

“Just wait.” Whispered Logan. They listened intently. As Dee gripped one of the bars of the cell, the inmate stood taller. Slightly intimidated, he made to step away. Roman and Logan heard a whack before turning again to see Dee spread out across the floor, clutching his left eye-socket.

“He just punched me!” He yelled, pointing at the inmate. “Is that allowed?”

“I did warn you not to get too close.” Teased Roman.

“And under section four on page seven in your contract, which I watched you sign, you have full liability for anything done to you by an inmate _if_ provoked. Under this section, provoking an inmate includes deliberate disturbance, which is precisely what you did.” Added Logan.

“Who made that damn contract? What kind of idiot would let that happen?” He hissed

“Do you have a problem with how I run my prison?” Logan asked, marching towards him. He swiftly scrambled off the ground and stood up to Logan, who had a good three inches on him, before conceding and backing away.

Nearly half an hour had gone by uneventfully as Logan sat at his desk going through paperwork, signing sheet after sheet and ticking endless boxes. Suddenly, Virgil called his name and demanded his presence. He tossed a glance at his calendar and saw that he was due a new inmate. The death sentence was shrinking in its use, but occasionally Montfort Prison would get another inmate who would have to wait for death.

“Bring Roman with you, he looks strong.” Virgil warned as Logan made to follow him.

“Already here, Logan,” Roman said, “I mean, can’t be much more than Logan, surely?” He added, laughing.

“What do you mean to imply?” Asked Logan

“I mean, you’re six feet tall and can lift over two hundred pounds like it’s nothing. You’re _strong_. You don’t look it, but you are.”

“Well,” Virgil interrupted, “I’ll just say that this guy can give you a run for your money.” Roman looked at Logan, whose eyes were focussed sternly on the corridors ahead, stubbornly refusing to meet his own, and tried to imagine exactly what might be coming in. Maybe someone _seven_ feet tall, who could lift _three _hundred pounds with ease. He dared not think. As the three walked, they passed a multitude of other guards, who Logan greeted by name, and who Roman could barely recognise, but smiled at anyway. Virgil remained silent and stiff, save for the long strides, the entire journey. Corridors that stretched for miles, and walls that were all so the same that even the emptiness became recognisable, as was the endless repetition of the mile. It seemed like forever, but they finally came to the exit, where their new inmate would be brought through in minutes to come. They heard the jangling of the handcuffs around their wrists, and heavy footsteps getting closer and closer. They heard voices, too, but the words they uttered were incomprehensible.

“Stand back.” Logan commanded, just a second before the door opened. In walked one guard, but she was dwarfed by the figure looming behind her; though not as monstrous as Roman had envisioned, and not enough in Logan’s self-aggrandizing opinion to warrant the presence of assistants, he was by no means little. He had just over an inch on Logan, and looked like he could snap his bones like twigs. At least, he looked strong enough to do so, but his eyes were teary and his footsteps delicate, and he avoided eye contact simply by staring intently at the ground. He kept his hands low; handcuffed though he was, it wasn’t unknown for some inmates to use the metal chain to their advantage, but this one, the one who could probably have done the most damaged had he wanted to, remained still.

“May I have your name, please?” Logan asked calmly. The other guard had walked in by now, and she, alongside the other, was holding him meekly by the wrists as some sort of puny restraint.

“Patton.” He choked. His wrists started shaking.

“And your last name?”

“I don’t have one, sir.” He said. Logan looked at the two guards with a blank expression.

“It’s true.” Said one of them. “I looked, and we can’t track a last name. He really doesn’t have one.”

“Why did you bring someone to my prison without a last name? I can’t leave that part of the paperwork blank.” Logan said sharply, turning his whole body towards them.

“He doesn’t have anywhere else.” She said, her voice quieter.

“If I may interrupt…” Patton squeaked.

“You cannot!” Spat the other guard. She looked up at him and tried to make her venomous eyes meet his, but he didn’t dare look at her.

“You don’t tell people what to do while you’re on my grounds, am I clear?” Logan asked. “Go ahead, Patton.” He continued before either of them could answer.

“Am I allowed to be assigned… Can I be given… I mean, maybe a fake one? One I could just – I don’t know – use from now on?” Logan and the two guards stopped. They stared at him with wonder and consideration.

“Is that legal?” Asked Roman. All gazes turned to him.

“Probably not, but it is certainly less illegal than just leaving the last name blank on the paperwork. Thank you, both of you,” Logan waved his hands at the two guards with dismissal, “I’ll take it from here. Follow me, Patton.” He, with Roman and Virgil assuming the roles that once had been the other guards’, walked back along the roads of corridor.

“It feels like I’m walking a mile here.” Patton commented, disturbing the common silence.

“Funny you should say that,” Dee said, materialising out of nowhere, “I guess you’ll be walking the mile in more ways than one, then?”

“Dee,” Roman interjected.

“What do you mean?” Asked Patton with a quiver in his voice.

“Didn’t you know that when death penalty inmates are being sent to the chair, we say they’re ‘walking the mile’?”

“Dee, please.” This time, it was Virgil who spoke, but the pleas to stop seemed only to egg him on more.

“Funny, isn’t it?”

“Dee, shut it!” Logan shouted, sending the corridor into a terrified silence. Not even the hum of electricity could be heard in the air.

“Whatever you say, then.” He muttered through a sigh. In an unbroken, shattering silence, they led Patton to his cell.

Logan opened up the cell and stepped inside, the other three nudging Patton to follow. He looked up to him, and noticed how closely his eyes resembled Roman’s.

“Am I going to have any problems with you here, Patton?” He asked. He saw his lip quivering.

“No sir.”

“Any questions?” He asked. Patton paused, his eyes narrowing.

“What last name are you giving me?” He finally replied after several long moments. Logan glanced at Virgil, who hastily looked in another direction, then to Roman, who met his gaze but offered no assistance. He didn’t even want to see Dee.

“I suppose you can take mine. Patton Chandler? That has a nice ring.”

“Okay, thank you, Mister Chandler.”

“Call me Logan… I don’t want you causing any trouble here, okay? We’ll be checking up on you soon.” He left, locking the bars of Patton’s cell behind him, and made his way back to his office, his heels clicking against the floor with every step.

“You got on first name terms with that one real quick, didn’t you?” Mocked Dee, startling Logan as he walked into his office to see him sat on his chair with his feet up on the desk.

“You’re crumpling up that paperwork.” He observed.

“Oh, sorry-”

“Get your feet of the desk and get out of my office and do the job I’m paying you to do. _Now_.” He commanded. Dee scurried out like a beetle, past Roman who had also appeared at the doorframe. He entered and shut the door.

“You gave Patton your name quickly, but you won’t let me have it?” He teased, bending over the desk and resting his elbows on it (staying clear of any paper) and cupping his face in his hands. Logan didn’t even look up as he ticked more boxes and signed more dotted lines, but Roman could definitely see the blush.

“I thought we agreed I’d be taking yours?”

“Well, we actually agreed to never get married in the first place because of all the legal shit tied with it, but still!” Roman protested. Logan met his eyes, and found comfort in his soft brown irises. He muttered something under his breath.

“What did you say?” Asked Roman. Logan stood up, took Roman’s hands and pressed his forehead against his. Then, in the softest and gentlest voice, whispered.

“Get back to work.” And Roman scurried out of the office much like how Dee had, but with a skip and an air of simply being tolerable, which Dee had never demonstrated.

Hours and stacks of paperwork having been done, Logan glanced at his watch. He shot out of his seat and rushed to the hall wherein all the cells and inmates were kept. He knew that he’d be alone for Roman and Virgil leave as soon as their shifts end, and Logan frequently lost track of time and would spend the last part of his day alone. He, at first, stole a look onto the cell to his left, newly emptied, then to the right, where Patton was sat cross-legged against the wall opposite the bed. Logan observed how each finger tapped his leg in a bizarre pattern with seemingly no rhythm.

“Are you alright there, Patton?” He asked, his voice echoing along the hall. He could practically hear the heads of all the other inmates turning in his direction. All inmates except for Patton, who stared at the ceiling with a glazed-over look in his eye.

“I suppose so.” He replied, still.

“Good.” Logan said. He continued with the evening routine – the most strenuous part of the day. When he had first started, it didn’t take Logan long to realise that some prisoners simply don’t want to speak, least of all with the man who they associated most with their pain. Such a rule rings true with every new generation of prisoners.


	2. Want to talk about it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long day, Logan finally comes home with Roman waiting for him. As much as he'd love to talk and give Roman what he deserves, there's something about Logan that gets in the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's been a week since the first chapter? I forgot how to keep track of time so take that how you will. This chapter... Though seemingly trivial, will probably end up as one of the most important ones later. I hope you enjoy!  
Trigger warnings: depression.

Roman sat on the sofa trying to watch TV but the constant ticking of his watch filled his mind with anticipation of both annoyance and excitement. He’d always known that Logan was considered married to his work above anything else, so it came as no surprise to him that, two hours after his shift should have ended, he had yet to come home. Still, he sighed, and listened for any sign of him. Suddenly, he heard the turning of the front door and leapt from his seat to greet him.

“Roman, you seem happy?” Logan said as he untied his shoes and returned them to their specific shelf, and hung his blazer on one of his hooks.

“Just glad you’re back home – you haven’t had a long day such as this for some weeks now, I was almost worried.”

Roman explained, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Almost?”

“I know you, it’s not like over-working yourself isn’t to be expected at this point.”

“I suppose not. Have you eaten?”

“I was waiting for you to come back before I started cooking anything.”

“Oh, you poor thing…” Logan muttered as he was making his way upstairs. “I’m sorry to keep you so late. I’ll be down soon, if you start to fix something up I’ll be down to help in a few minutes.” He slinked upstairs, leaving Roman looking hopelessly at boxes and boxes of ingredients: six different white powders that all looked the same; safely over thirty bottles of brown and black spices with so much variety that Roman had no idea how different the flavours could possibly be; and four different types of oils that, according to Logan, all had different purposes, somehow. To Roman, they were all just oil. His eyes landed on a box of eggs, and then slid over to one of the frying pans hung on the wall, then to the white powders. He scoured the whole kitchen for the rest of the ingredients, and before long he had made four crêpes while Logan was still silently sauntering upstairs.

It was far from ideal, being in a t-shirt and jeans rather than his usual casual attire, but Logan couldn’t always keep up with himself. The smell of lemons came through his room, and he put on a jumper for the sake of it before finding himself back to Roman.

“Wow, that’s… Surprising.” Roman said, staring at his partner with delighted curiosity.

“You’ve seen me without a tie before, surely.” Logan replied taking a seat at one of the stools and holding his own face in his hands.

“Not in daylight. Is something wrong?”

“I’m just tired, is all.”

“Oh,” Roman looked at him longingly, watching him trying not to meet his gaze, “is it getting bad again?”

“I hope not. We’ll see how it goes. Have you made pancakes?”

“Crêpes.”

“Okay, nerd. But thanks, I appreciate it.” Roman slid him a plate with two crêpes, beautifully presented with a wedge of lemon on the side and a light sprinkling of sugar. He took a bite. It was delicious, but something was off. “What did you put in the pan?” He queried as Roman ate.

“Olive oil. Why?”

“Sunflower oil has less flavour. Use that next time for things like frying, okay? It’s still really good though, and I’m grateful.” Though Logan was worried that his astute nature would come across as rude, Roman’s eyes flushed with amazement.

“You could taste that?” He asked in awe. The question was almost rhetorical.

“I could.”

“You’re amazing.”

“I try to be.”

He said nonchalantly. Roman gazed at him with a sad sort of curiosity. They finished in silence.

Dark had settled in hours ago. Logan had retreated into his and Roman’s room and just lay on the bed enveloped by the sheets. It was warm, but unkindly so; it was intrusive and unrelenting rather than faint and pleasant. He couldn’t move them. On the floor he had rested his laptop and had it playing a podcast to which he was barely even paying attention. He stared at the wall unblinking and tried to extract meaning behind the empty thoughts. The smell of the bedsheets was at least fresh thanks to Roman’s diligence in washing them. Logan’s silence was interrupted by Roman who, as cheerfully as he could muster, burst into the room doing a cartwheel, singing a song Logan could just about recognise.

“Just freeze your brain!” He belted, elongating every second word and warping the line beyond all reason.

“Does your mommy know you eat all that crap?” Logan answered in a caricatured high-pitched voice. It was silly, but it made him smile.

“How are you doing, Marilyn Morose?” Roman asked, interrupting the song. Logan rolled over to face him, but ended up just staring at the ceiling instead.

“Depression, but what’s new?”

“What’s new is the fact that you actually sang along to a Heathers song without me asking you to for a duet – which is a surprise – so is it different this time?”

“Different all the time.”

“Okay,” Roman sighed, “I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about it, then?”

“I’m so tired, Roman. Tired and nothing makes me feel anymore. It just hit in a wave as soon as I got home. It shouldn’t last for long.”

“Not fun.”

“Not at all.”

“You still love me?”

Roman asked, placing a hand on Logan’s head and stroking his hair.

“Sure do.”

“Enough to call me your husband even if it’s illogical since we’re not married?”

“Absolutely.” Logan sighed. Seeing his pain broke Roman’s heart.

“Want me to leave you alone for a while?” Roman asked, watching the light rise and fall of Logan’s chest.

“No.” Logan replied bluntly. “If I’m alone I’ll just stay depressed until work tomorrow.” He made himself smile, but Roman had to mask his concern. He sat on the floor cross-legged and talked endlessly about his day, about why he liked Heathers so much, and about how much he’d love to play JD. Logan listened to every word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to share your thoughts, I'd really appreciate that :D


	3. The Punch.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After reading the transcript of Patton's court case, and after a major conflict with Dee, and even after everything going on in his own head, Logan's insatiable need to learn, coupled with Roman's incessant and mildly flirtatious comments, the day ends well, but everyone has neglected what will happen tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try to upload every Thursday but we'll see about that. Trigger warnings include brief mentions of depression and blood/death, but only briefly. Please enjoy :D

Roman and Virgil were alone. They knew that Logan was around somewhere (Roman had driven him in and Virgil had seen him at his desk) but he somehow had dematerialised and, wherever they looked, they couldn’t find him. It was hardly as if they needed him urgently, but his sudden disappearance had rendered them not only confused, but concerned.

“You know what he’s like,” Virgil said, tapping the wall behind him, “I bet he’s just off doing his own thing.”

“I do know what he’s like, and that’s exactly why I don’t think he’s done that. He doesn’t just go anywhere, he’s either at his desk or out here in the hall. We checked the mile, the storage, and even outside. Where else could he be?”

“I have an idea!” Virgil exclaimed.

“What are you—”

“Dee! Come here!” He called. Sure enough, Dee came scampering in within moments from outside where he didn’t belong. He scurried to face the two men and halted within a few feet from them.

“Okay, listen,” Virgil explained, “just do something.” He gave himself more distance between himself and Dee.

“What do you mean?”

“Did I fucking stutter? Literally just do something.”

“Virgil, what are you thinking?” Roman whispered as Dee hurried to the storage room to get a mop. Sure enough, as soon as he had dragged out the cart to start, Logan appeared suddenly from his office door and threw a look that was nothing short of disgusted. Virgil, on the other hand, looked smugly at Roman, who was suppressing a childishly impressed smile.

“Dee, what are you thinking?” He asked, projecting his voice clearly through the echoic hall. Most of the prisoners showed no interest in the exchange, instead occupying their own headspace. Some gave the group a blank glance before resuming to their activities. Patton, however, perked up as if someone had said his name and, carefully rising to his feet, crept towards them as close as the bars of his cell would allow.

“I was just… Mopping?” Dee replied, his voice wavering with uncertainty. His fearful eyes flashed towards Virgil and then to Roman, before landing back onto Virgil.

“Why? Can’t you smell the odour in the air of chemicals from mopping that someone else already did?”

“Hey, Logan, chill out.” Virgil interjected. “I told him to make himself useful and that’s what he did. It’s better to mop than to mope, right?”

“I suppose…” He narrowed his eyes at Dee and crossed his arms. Roman interrupted the silence before it could settle.

“What’s the time?” He asked, looking fiercely away from the clock and instead at his partner.

“Nearly lunch time for you three.” Logan answered.

“Us? Why not you, too?” Logan hesitated before answering.

“I have matters that require my attention.” And with that, he spun on his heels and retreated back to his office.

“Oh my god…” Logan whispered, turning the pages of Patton’s court transcript with trembling hands.

_[Judge] Mr Patton ‘no last name given’, how do you plead?_

_[Defendant] (4.0) innocent._

And, after another few pages:

_[Prosecution] how can the jurors believe that the accused is anything but guilty of the heinous murder of the Mitchell family? The evidence is all there: his DNA on the bodies, blood of the young boy on his clothes, he was even at the scene of the crime within the hour of its occurrence!_

And the, by the end of the trial.

_[Judge] I hereby declare you guilty of all charges and sentence you to death._

Of course, Logan had used the same transcript the day before to fill out the paperwork, but he was so desensitised to crime that it had barely fazed him then. In fact, he saw the transcript more as a means of getting his job done than as a reminder that even gentle people can snap. Despite knowing otherwise, curiosity got the better of him; he left his office, and strode towards Patton’s cell. Roman, Virgil, and Dee were nowhere to be found.

All prisoners within a week of their imprisonment looked dead inside. Patton had not even been there for forty eight hours and, though he didn’t look dead and soulless, he did look like being so would serve him better than this. Very much alive though he was, such an existence barely seemed worth it. He had his first real look at him: brown eyes lined with lavishly long lashes, much like Roman’s; nervous tendencies despite his vast impression; an overall childlike look. Patton was far from anything Logan had ever seen. His murderers had always been rough and violent before succumbing to their fate, much like a tamed dog, but Patton was calm – if not dreadfully teary at times. Logan couldn’t help but ponder if he may be the opposite of everyone else, and that he may become aggressive soon enough. Something pulled in his chest at the thought of someone his size deciding to do harm. Or being provoked.

“I just read your court transcript,” he said, “and it isn’t pretty.”

“It sure wasn’t, sir.”

“Do you know when you’re scheduled to… To walk the mile?”

“No, they didn’t tell me. Or I forgot. Sorry, sir.”

“It’s October 28th. Just over two months from now… How’re you doing?” He asked. He tried not to cringe at his awkward attempt at small talk.

“About as well as you’d expect as a guy who’s waiting to die for something that I didn’t do.” Patton replied bitterly. “I’m guessing that’s what you want to know?”

“You guessed correctly. How did you know?”

“I’m just good like that, I suppose. Sir.”

“Shut the fuck up lovebirds I’m trying to sleep!” Yelled one of the prisoners. Tony Lawrence was his name. As Logan recalled, he was typically quiet with his main issue being that he was passive-aggressive and sarcastic – not exactly illegal, but certainly inconvenient.

“Sweet dreams, then.” Dee muttered, slamming the entrance door behind him. “I think I could help knock you out if you wanted.”

“Shut the fuck up, Dee!” Logan yelled, turning to face him. He felt his face grow hotter as his heart palpitated faster and faster. There was a ring in the cold air, but that was the only noise other than their voices.

“You know, Logan Chandler,” taunted Dee, making his way towards the other with a deliberate click of his heels against the floor, “I don’t think you’re fit to run this place. I think you’re a bit too soft to run the mile. You treat these guys like a child sitting on the naughty step rather than the criminals they are. And where do you take out any grievance these guys give you? On me!”

“Dee…” Logan tried to interrupt, but Dee wouldn’t stop. His eyes were fired up and his motions were dynamic, with arms flying all over him and his hair starting to stand on end.

“Did it just slip your mind that, you know, I’m not the one behind the bars? You give _these guys _all the respect that _I_ deserve! Where, pray tell, is the fairness in that?”

“Because I give these people the respect that treats them like people. You demand the respect that treats you like an authority. Have _you_ forgotten who’s in charge here?” It was Logan’s turn to point fingers now. The two were practically face to face but Logan was intimidating in stature alone, he was far bigger in character. Dee stepped back a little bit, towards the agitated Tony Lawrence.

“You’ll learn one day, Logan.” He spat, still retreating. Logan looked just past him, and made eye contact with Tony. He gave him a solemn and subtle nod.

“I’d have thought you’d be the one to learn by now.” He said. He closed his eyes and waited for just a few moments. Sure enough, the familiar thwack of a punch ruptured the air, and Logan opened his eyes to Dee sprawled out over the floor again.

“No way is that allowed!” He cried, clutching his left mandible, teary-eyed. He stayed on the floor, but shuffled closer to Logan to face him. Logan tried to peer into Tony’s cell, but he had retreated so far back that he wasn’t visible from Logan’s perspective. At that moment, Roman and Virgil rushed in, but stood frozen once the sight that met their eyes. Logan cleared his throat and regained his composure, which Dee’s mere presence had managed to ruin.

“Haven’t you learnt? It’s in your contract. Although, I wouldn’t put it past you to be unable to read.” He stood stoically, though his heart was racing. Dee scrambled to his feet and rushed out the door to the outside. Only Virgil, Logan, and Roman remained.

“Logan, what the _hell_ just happened?” Roared Roman, rushing to be by his side.

“We all _want_ to fight him but you can’t just hit him.”

“He didn’t.” Interjected Patton, peeking through the bars of his cell. “I saw. It wasn’t Logan.”

“I mean,” Roman looked between Logan and Patton, “I don’t see why you would have.”

“Oh, I see _why_ you would have, don’t get me wrong, but if you actually did? Nah, I don’t think so.”

“Was it one of these guys?” Asked Roman, gesturing towards all the cells.

“It was. Now, you two have work to do, yes?” He gave the two a cold glance. “I think you should go and see to it that that work gets done.” With no argument, they scurried out the door in much the same manner as Dee had. As soon as the door closed, Logan felt tears welling in his eyes. His fists were clenched so hard that his knuckles turned white. His knees were trembling.

“Are you alright, sir?” Whispered Patton.

“That’s none of your concern.” Logan replied, glued to the spot. Tony interrupted, his tone echoic.

“The boss is sad he didn’t _actually_ get to hit the dickhead.”

“No, but they _thought_ that I did. They thought that I’d actually do that.”

“Would you? I would.”

“You _have_, Tony. But that isn’t the point. They’re my friends, they should know me better than that!”

“More than friends by the look and sound of it for one of them.” Tony smirked. Logan felt his face go warm again, but not with the terrible anger which had struck him before.

“Oh?” Patton asked wearing an excited and childlike grin, “who is it?”

“You can’t tell?” Tony teased. Coincidentally, Roman opened the door and turned to head towards the supplies room before he noticed Logan stood in the centre of the corridor. He smiled with sparkling eyes. Tony wolf-whistled and Patton cheered in support (though what of exactly, he didn’t quite know). Roman and Logan both blushed.

“What’s going on here?” Roman laughed.

“I was just… Well, I – I thought that… Okay, so –” Roman interrupted him before Logan could finish.

“Why are you so nervous? Do we need to leave early? You worked too much yesterday, I can take you home and come back to finish the shift.”

“That won’t be necessary!” Logan protested as Roman tried to take his hand to lead him away, but he pulled away hastily. Guilty, he put it back for him to hold. “I just have a few more things… A bit more to do… Some paperwork. Shouldn’t take more than an hour. In the meantime, please make sure Dee is okay and volunteer him for more training as a guard. He could do with that. Now if you’ll excuse me!” He pulled his hands away, softer this time, and strode to his office with a feigned confidence.

Doing the paperwork to document Tony punching Dee was beyond arduous; what should theoretically have been thirty minutes of work took an hour as Logan kept finding distractions of all kinds to avoid doing that. He only found solace in the natural isolation that his office gave him, away from everyone else – they all usually knew better than to distract him. However, as soon as he was done, he found Roman and went home, leaving Virgil to do the evening tasks.

“You’ve been a bit off today, like not your usual off but like even off from that. Is there something you want to talk about?” Asked Roman when the two had fastened their seatbelts.

“I don’t like talking about work when I’m not there. It’s better to separate work life from home life.” Replied Logan, leaning his head against the window. He realised that Roman’s tendencies had started to wear off on him when he found it an uncomfortable position, but stayed in it simply for the Drama.

“So it’s work-related?”

“I suppose.”

“I’ll ask you tomorrow, then.”

“At your own risk.” Logan muttered. Roman rubbed the back of his neck. “And keep both hands on the wheel!”

At home, Logan changed once more into a jumper and jeans, but he felt less fatigued despite the events of the day being so cumbersome. Although, his thoughts were less than motivating and despite not wanting to sleep, he found that there was practically nothing he did want to do.

“Roman?” He called from the kitchen.

“What is it?” Roman replied from the living room.

“Do you like pasta?”

“Logan we’ve known each other for years and you can’t remember that I like pasta?”

“Guess what memory loss could possibly be caused by.”

“Depression?”

“You fucking know it.” Logan heard a suppressed chuckle from the living room.

“Stop making me laugh about your depression!” Though the comment was all in good heart, Logan felt a pinch in his stomach that barely resembled anything he could remember once feeling. Would he rather be made to cry about it, like Logan would? As soon as such a thought crossed his mind, Logan banished it away. He made the pasta, coated in olive oil and salt, and he and Roman ate.

“Do you want some gum?” Roman offered as Logan was reading. He handed him a piece and he chewed it carefully.

“Spearmint?”

“I don’t know man, it’s just mint. What are you reading?”

“A book about mycology. It’s just an interest I have.”

“How many interests do you have? I swear every week it’s something new.”

“The world is interesting.” Logan replied, almost sardonically. Roman saw how his eyes weren’t even moving to read the words, and how he sighed with every word as if it took all of his energy to speak.

“It sure is. Especially how everyone has their own little portion of it that nobody else will ever see the same way. It’s almost like the world is just an accumulation of all the worlds of the individuals. We all have our own worlds.”

“That’s certainly an interesting take.” Logan looked up. Roman knew he was listening.

“For example,” he smirked, “my personal world became much more interesting when you became a part of it.” Logan threw his book onto the floor in feigned agitation.

“Did you set up that entire conversation just to say that?”

“Surprisingly no, but thanks for not putting that past me!” They both laughed, and it was genuine and true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, I hope you enjoyed! Please feel free to comment on any thoughts, theories, or questions you may have because I live for external validation at this point. Thank you!


	4. Preparation.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton and Tony are starting to see through Logan more and more, but the head officer remains reticent. When Tony makes a light-hearted comment about what is soon to come, something that all staff had neglected, Logan can barely hold back from a terrible panic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning here: mention of rape -- just a simple acknowledgement that rapists exist because this story is set in a prison and that's just how it be, but please proceed with care.

Night was starting to settle. The two had changed into light, airy pyjamas and had given up all attempts at cuddling as the heat became overwhelming and the room humid. Hence, Logan was sat on the floor with his legs crossed and his head resting against the arm of the sofa while Roman, sprawled out over it, played with his hair from above.

“What are you thinking about?” Roman asked. “You seem like you’ve had something on your mind all afternoon.”

“I told you on the way home.” Replied Logan.

“I know that you have something against talking about work while we’re at home, but this seems like it’s troubling you more than anything has in a while. What’s up?” Logan sighed, and leaned into Roman’s hand.

“The transcript hasn’t been made public yet, so you don’t know what Patton was charged for, do you?”

“Rape or murder, surely? It’s always one of the two.”

“Well it’s usually the latter since you know what our culture is like regarding alleged rapists. They always get off the hook for whatever bullshit reason the state can decide. It was murder. Of a whole family – the Mitchell family, if you cared to do some background research. The two parents, a young boy and two girls, alongside an attempt at the neighbour as well when they tried to call the police, but they survived just long enough to make the call and the police arrested Patton, but they died in hospital, and now their family has a bill for thousands that they cannot pay. Six people dead, and another family in debt for life. A horrible crime.”

“Forgive my insensitivity-” Roman started.

“I will.” Interrupted Logan.

“But there have been far worse things done that you’ve seen. Far, far worse. And you were just saying recently that you started not to feel bad about anything to do with the job anymore, so what’s different now?” Logan paused. The room was silent with tension, but Roman could practically hear the truth in Logan’s mind.

“I’ve seen rapists and murderers. Psychopaths are always bouncing through the walls back there and I’ve never bat an eye. I don’t see any of them in Patton. He sure is pissed off about being where he is, but it doesn’t look like anger. It’s just words. I truly don’t believe that he did it.”

“Unfortunately, you’re not in a position to make that decision. You just have to live with it.” Roman replied. He knew that Logan was clever, and certainly not one to make a decision on something when evidence shows otherwise, but, he thought, _really_? He _didn’t_ do it? Roman thought that unlikely.

Virgil walked into the hall to see Logan, stood solitary much like he had been in the habit of doing recently, facing Patton’s cell. His entrance startled him as he leaped away from it and stared at him in shock.

“Good morning Virgil.” He replied quickly but with a tone of nonchalance.

“Why are you acting so… So furtive?” He asked, shuffling back to the exit through which he had just come.

“I didn’t know you knew such a word.”

“No need to be rude…” Virgil muttered, deciding instead to stride past him. “I literally just wanted to _ask_, but okay.” And he stormed out.

“Is he alright? Shouldn’t you check on him?” Asked Patton.

“He’ll be fine.” Logan replied solidly.

“Are you sure about that Logan? I’ve seen him running through here crying after being yelled at in your office or outside.” Called Tony from the opposite side of the hall.

“Nonsense; I don’t yell.”

“Nope, but you certainly raise your voice. He doesn’t like that.”

“Well sir, if I may…” Offered Patton, his voice suddenly tentative, “You’re more intimidating than you think so anything more than normal may appear threatening. Especially for someone like him.”

“What do you mean, someone like him? What do you know about Virgil?”

“Probably more than anyone would like. You’ll dismiss things as nothing more than a mere vibe, but energy is real. Please consider that.”

“As much as I’d like you to be right, I cannot help but ponder: what energy do I have, in your opinion?”

“Surprisingly little,” Patton replied. Logan heard Tony scoff from behind him, as if such a statement was scandalous. “I can’t articulate most of it. It’s more of a feeling, if you know what I mean?”

“You lost him at ‘feeling’, big guy.” Tony laughed. “I reckon the boss has two feelings in the whole world and that’s it.”

“Oh?” Logan laughed. “What would you say they would be, then?”

“It’s obvious man! Love for your boyfriend and depression.”

“Okay wow, you didn’t have to say that and yet…” Logan smiled. Patton looked almost pitiful, almost sorry, or maybe confused – Logan could barely tell.

“We’re getting the new guy in tomorrow so I have to stand my ground as best prisoner in here.”

Logan rushed away from the corridor and through the mile, stopping outside Roman’s office. Without knocking, he slammed the door open and almost fell through the door at his speed.

“Roman!” He shouted, catching himself on the door handle.

“Hey now, what’s up? Are you alright?”

“Roman oh my god we’re getting another guy in tomorrow so we need to get everything done _today_ and if we don’t I will _die_!”

“Okay, chill out Shakespeare, nobody is going to die.”

“I mean…”

“Okay, poor choice of lexis considering where we are but we can easily get this done now. I’ll find Virgil to help me prepare the cell, you go over all the paperwork, and maybe get Dee on the contacts?”

“Okay, yeah sounds good.” He took a deep, shaky breath, and tried to calm down. His hands were starting to slow their quivering, and the initial panic was washing away.

“Okay, you go to your office and do your work to calm down, I’ll get the dudes to work, okay?”

“Okay, that’s good. Thank you, Roman.”

“No worries! Now come on, let’s go.”

The cell was completely tidied and prepared for tomorrow’s arrival within an hour, Dee had confirmed exact times and details of the new inmate, and Logan had nearly done all the paperwork which he had neglected in focussing on Patton. Ticking boxes and signing names had never been so stressful. By the end of it, his hand had become sore from furious writing and pulling at tufts of his own hair. Logan exited his office to Roman, Virgil, and Dee all stood around the door nervously.

“Are you okay, buddy?” Virgil asked. The other two remained stiff and annoyingly silent.

“Perfectly adequate now. What’s the matter with the three of you?” Logan replied.

“You’ve been screaming at varying intervals for the past forty minutes. We honestly thought it would be Tony or Jason or Patton.”

“Oh yeah,” Logan laughed, “Because Patton and Jason scream all the time.”

“To be fair, neither do you.” Reasoned Roman with a smile.

“Thanks for not including me on the list of people who don’t periodically scream!” Tony’s voice echoed through the corridor, but he wasn’t visible in his cell. Logan looked past Dee’s shoulder to Jason’s cell, and saw him with his back turned. He couldn’t recall the last time he had ever made a noise. Patton looked on from his cell, his eyes bright and glassy.

“Well, it’s done now. Would you all agree that we’re ready for tomorrow’s new arrival? Remus is his name, I believe.”

“Physically, yes.” Dee answered.

“What do you mean?”

“While I was on the phone, the person said that he’s, for lack of better words, fucking crazy.”

“He’s been declared fit for death row prison though?” Questioned Virgil.

“Oh no he’s not like some of the other guys who have been here,” Dee explained, “they just said he’s loud and annoying.”

“Much like yourself.” Roman giggled. His tone was like stone but his face soft and all in jest.

“Oh, so you should get along with him fine.” Logan said. Then all was silent.

Logan had set the other three to work together away from the hall with the prisoners. As far as he knew, they should all be at the mile, making sure that the electricity was set at the right voltage and that the straps were still tight and inescapable. They’d taken Jason down with them to test and practise the walk before his official sentence was to be carried out the next week (time had flown by quickly). While it was morbid and soul-destroying work with which nobody was pleased, it meant that Logan had ten minutes with just Patton and Tony. As much as he hated and refused to admit it, he almost considered them friends, and Jason never seemed the friendly type. Logan was far from sure what he could possibly do, but constantly seeing him with his back turned in previous conversations and a listening ear was always unnerving.

“Hey Tony,” Logan uttered so as to grab his attention, “what are your thoughts on the new person coming tomorrow?”

“Listen man, I don’t care. So long as he isn’t absolutely insufferable because I swear to all unholy if I have to spend the last month of my life with an absolute fucking lunatic you won’t be the one killing me.”

“What about you, Patton?” Logan looked into his cell and saw Patton sat on his bed rubbing the palms of his hands together. His eyes were wide and darker for the bad lighting. He stayed solid and silent for a few seconds looking to be in a state of careful consideration.

“You’ll need to be careful. Make sure you’ll have at least one of the others with you, please.”

“Okay…” Logan thought. It was strange, but far from surreptitious; having several staff members walk new inmates into their cell was standard procedure anyway. He thought nothing more of it.

“Why the concern, big guy?” Tony asked, shifting his weight between his feet.

“This one will be dangerous. I just know it. I don’t want things getting worse for you, sir.”

“What do you mean?” Logan asked with a growing concern. His time before the end of the rehearsal of the mile was coming to an end soon.

“You’re regressing, sir. You might need some help with that.”

“I’m perfectly fine!” He retaliated defensively. Then, more calmly, “I appreciate the concern, but understand that it is misplaced.” His back was turned from Patton, so he didn’t see the eye contact between him and Tony, and he didn’t see him mouthing ‘he’s a liar’. He didn’t see Tony replying with a silent ‘help him’, and he didn’t see the shared sad and solemn nod. Logan pushed his glasses frames to his face and strode towards the mile, the clicking of his heels echoing through the hall as the door slammed shut behind him.

“I’m trying to help him,” Patton said once he’d gone, “but he has to let me first.”

The rust was so prevalent in the corridor connecting the prisoners to the chair that Logan could practically smell it and reflexively pulled a face of disgust. His revulsion was not helped at all by a sudden metallic taste in his mouth. Still, he walked forward to where the rehearsal for Jason’s upcoming sentence was to be carried out. Logan searched for the shudder he used to get upon walking this corridor, the sorrow he used to feel for those who’d have their lives taken from them (sometimes wrongfully) and the regret he used to feel for being a perceived executioner in a system he despised, and found none of it. A tingling hatred for state-enforced murder at a push, but nothing that used to connect him more personally to the individuals he sometimes found himself befriending. The closest thing to pity or sympathy he got was a reminder of what Patton had said about Virgil to him, but nothing more. He’d gotten too used to all the brutality that even this corridor seemed to shrink and he found himself joined by Roman, Virgil, and Dee within less than a minute. Jason was just being unstrapped.

“So, we’re all prepared for next week?” Logan asked upon arrival.

“It would seem so.” Answered Dee. The other two nodded. Jason stared ahead as if he was barely even paying attention. He barely even looked alive anymore. Barely able to stand the ringing silence, Virgil spoke up.

“Okay, let’s go.”

“No,” Logan demanded, “Dee and Roman, escort Jason back to his cell. Virgil, stay here; I’d like a word.” Swiftly, and with a glare of only medial agitation from Dee, he and Roman did as instructed while Virgil stayed glued to the spot, his feet turned inwards and his arms folded.

“Have I done something wrong?” He croaked, barely able to meet Logan’s eyes.

“No, but I have…” He paused. “I owe you an apology for being so snappy earlier. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Oh,” Virgil’s face regained some lost colour, and he looked up and focused on the wall just past Logan’s shoulder.

“And I’m sorry for not realising it sooner.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

“May I ask you something?”

“Depends what it is.” Virgil snickered.

“Do I do my job well, in your honest and objective opinion?” Logan asked, burying his hands in his pockets so that Virgil wouldn’t see him tracing shapes across his palms.

“I don’t know why you would come to me for objectivity, but I think so. I mean, you always get the job done, don’t you? And you make friends with all the inmates, something not everyone can do. Yeah, I think you do – what made you ask? Is everything okay?”

“No reason.” He thought of Dee, and how he had called him unfit for his job. “Nothing at all. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know if I made any mistakes or any thoughts you may have about the story. Thank you! :D


	5. Sleep Talk.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another night at home, and one more morning until the arrival of Remus. Patton's presence is growing ever-more mysterious, and Logan's beginning to suspect that he may know some things that nobody else does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another chapter that may seem irrelevant but is another one that has details that may be important later. Trigger warnings are the usual: depression mentions, and slight aggression.

Roman changed into his usual attire upon the return home: black jeans, a white shirt, and his old letterman jacket. Logan stayed in his uniform of navy blue suit trousers, a tie and blazer of the same colour over a white button up shirt.

“Not even changing today?” Roman asked as Logan leant on the doorframe into the kitchen.

“You wouldn’t either.” Logan replied flatly.

“I don’t think I would even if I had it only half as bad as you do. I have no idea how you get up and go to work and just act normal.”

“Well, I’ve done this before I can do it again. I have to.”

“May I ask about something that happened at work today?” Roman queried out of the blue.

“Might as well.” Logan answered.

“Virgil said you apologised to him for, his words, ‘being snappy’. He also told me what had happened prior that he believed you were apologising for. Now, I know you well and you don’t tend to realise when you’ve hurt someone’s feelings.”

“It doesn’t take someone to know me well for them to realise that – I accidentally upset people within fifteen minutes of knowing them.”

“Yeah, you need to chill out about that, but I want to know what made you realise this time?”

“This is why I don’t like talking about work…” Logan sighed. “Patton said that he gets easily upset, and that he sensed it somehow, like he was sensing energy.”

“What, like a vibe?” Roman asked, puzzled.

“I’m unsure. He accused me of being the type of person to dismiss it as nothing more than just that, but he said it was real, somehow. He didn’t tell me to apologise, I don’t recall at least, but he said to be more careful around Virgil. So, I apologised.” Logan stood still against the frame as Roman froze in his spot momentarily. His irises seemed to shake and his hands were jittery.

“Logan, dear, you know what people can be like in there. He’s probably out of his mind.”

“No, you’re saying that more to yourself as a comfort rather than to me. Aren’t you listening to what I’m saying? Has he said anything to you?”

“Logan, please.”

“Absolutely not!” He shouted. Although it was, in terms of volume, barely above his speaking voice, the power behind him and his intentions were strong. And Roman could feel it. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to yell. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, fine,” he said, in a quiet and shaky voice, “it isn’t your fault, but you are mildly terrifying when you… Do that.”

“I’m sorry.” He flung himself from the doorframe and engulfed Roman in a hug. It was far from swift; he hit himself on the corner of the cabinet on the way and couldn’t quite figure out where to put his arms, but he eventually found his way into the embrace. Roman gripped him tightly, his chest convulsing against his as he buried his head in the cotton of Logan’s uniform. Logan felt wet patches on his clothes, and his heart sank. Guilt and loathing consumed him momentarily but he buried it, knowing that, of himself and Roman, one crying would be enough. Logan kissed the top of Roman’s head, whispering nothing but apologies.

“You can stop apologising.” Roman whispered back. “I get the message. I love you.”

“Oh, sorry – I mean, thanks.”

“Do you love me, too?”

“Of course, I’m not a fool.”

“Well, I mean…”

“Okay but we don’t need to go there today.” Logan smiled.

According to Logan’s phone, it was just past one in the morning. Certainly not a time to still be awake. As he rolled to his side, he became unfathomably grateful to Roman for not allowing him to sleep in his uniform, instead forcing him into appropriate sleepwear. He opened notes, his eyes squinting as he tried not to shine the light to awaken Roman, and tapped out the date – now yesterday’s date – into ‘sleepless nights’, after several full seconds of scrolling to get to the bottom of all the other dates. He sighed, switched off the phone, and rolled over to the other side where Roman was curled up and fast asleep, his back facing him. His breathing was deep. Logan shuffled to be closer to him.

“Are you awake?” He whispered, knowing the answer which would follow:

“No, now shush.” Roman replied. Logan had yet to ask if Roman was ever aware of the conversations they would have together when Logan couldn’t sleep. Neither ever mentioned them when awake, so Logan didn’t think so. Still, it amused him.

“Do you like me?” Logan teased.

“Not on Tuesdays.”

“What’s wrong with Tuesdays?” Logan had to repress a giggle.

“I think… I think…”

“Do you?”

“I was born on a Tuesday.”

“I believe you were born on a Friday if my memory serves me correctly.”

“No, I remember it clearly,” Roman muttered, “it was a Tuesday.”

“Well, today is Thursday so do you like me today?”

“You deserve this.” Roman turned over, limbs flailing, and his hand, which was curled into a loose fist, landed hard on Logan’s left eye. “Now shush.” Roman was now facing Logan. Logan shuffled towards him and wrapped his arms around him, cocooning him in an awkward but sentimental embrace. He ran his fingers through his hair. It was soft and thick.

“I love you.” He whispered, even though he couldn’t hear. Or, perhaps, _because_ he couldn’t hear. Logan couldn’t figure out which one. Barely able to think too deeply into that, he kissed Roman on the forehead and fell asleep with ease.

As the sun rose the next morning, Logan woke up alone in bed. Reaching for his glasses, he looked to see what Roman could be doing awake so early, and how he may have gotten out of bed quietly enough to not disturb him. He saw nothing, but could hear the clattering of pans downstairs and the smell of eggs drifting into the room. With some more focus, he heard the soft and quiet singing from below. Logan couldn’t make out the lyrics, but the song was slow and mellow. He walked slowly downstairs, his tired eyes still barely seeing what was happening around him, and his gaze drooping to the ground.

“Oh!” Roman exclaimed happily upon seeing him. “You’re awake!”

“Barely.” He sat on one of the stools at the countertops, only saving himself from falling by grasping the surface and pulling himself up.

“Wow, it really shows. Did you sleep well?” He asked, flicking on the kettle and preparing two mugs of coffee, before returning to the eggs.

“You could say that.” He looked up and at his partner, who was finalising his breakfast. He served the eggs, dividing them onto two plates. Logan stared at him, wondering what he could be thinking, or what he may be trying not to thinking about. Roman tore his eyes away from the eggs and glanced at Logan.

“Logan what the fuck?” He shouted in horror upon seeing the monstrosity that had become of Logan.

“What? What’s the matter?”

“What’s wrong with your face?”

“Excuse me?”

“Come here.” Roman sprang away from the stove and towards Logan, who stood but froze still. Roman spun him around swiftly for a better light, and saw a dark purple spread around his left eye. “What did you do?”

“You’ll have to tell me what’s made you so concerned before I can answer that.”

“You have a black eye!”

“Oh,” Logan smiled nonchalantly, “I suppose you don’t know, then.”

“What don’t I know?”

“You have an endearing habit of talking in your sleep, and you don’t really make that much sense, if I’m honest, but it is amusing. Anyway, last night you were trying to convince me that you were born on a Tuesday – I don’t remember why, this was just past one – and then you said, I quote, ‘you deserve this’ and hit me in the eye.”

“Oh, did it hurt?”

“Not at all, so I don’t know why my face has decided to do this.”

“Are you going to go into work like that? I mean, you know that the guys will ask questions.”

“I’m not skipping work simply because of this, especially not when there’ll be someone new arriving, but if you let me borrow some of your foundation after breakfast, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Roman breathed a sigh of relief, “sounds good.” Since they’d awoken so early, there was plenty of time to waste before they had to leave. They ate and spoke as the sun rose even further. Noticing how Roman’s hair went from the dark and mysterious colour of earth to the soft and glistening shade of tea in its golden light, Logan smiled, and all felt well.

In the bathroom, Logan dug through Roman’s box of makeup, the cold and barely touched plastic clunking together like high heels on concrete. They all looked the same until he opened the lids, where so many shapes and colours greeted his eyes that he shut it back down in intimidation.

“Roman? Can you help me, please?”

“Just a moment, I’m getting dressed.” Logan waited, holding a small black cuboid that looked like the opposite of what he wanted. Roman entered but was taken aback by Logan’s ghastly appearance. “I forgot you had the black eye for a second.” He laughed, taking the cuboid from Logan’s hands.

“Okay no we don’t want this,” he rummaged around the box briefly before pulling out a flat rectangle, “that was lipstick, we want foundation but that will go all over your face so that you don’t look too patchy.”

“Why are there so many things?” Logan gestured vaguely at the box.

“It’s called fashion, darling.”

“Isn’t it more of an art?”

“I guess, yeah, but either way. On a night out your man likes to dress up. Hence, the make-up. Now, can I trust you to know what you’re doing?”

“Not with this.”

“Oh come on! It’s not like it’s rocket science.” Roman laughed.

“No, you’re right.”

“Wait, really?”

“I can do rocket science, that shit’s easy,” Logan retorted with a smile, “this is some magic that I just don’t understand.”

“Okay nerd, now look at me and hold still while I do this.”

When it was done, after nearly ten minutes, Logan looked good as new; he expected to transform into a totally new face, one he would barely recognise in the mirror, but instead, he looked simply normal.

“Do you like it?” Roman asked, snapping shut the lid of the palette. “I mean, there’s not much to like, it’s simple, but –”

“I love it.” Logan interrupted before he could finish. He tore his eyes away from the mirror and gazed at Roman, who saw Logan as a newly blank slate. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, but try not to touch your face all day, alright?”

“Noted!” Logan replied, stopping himself from rubbing his face immediately. “Are you ready to leave?”

“You’re not dressed.”

“Oh dear okay give me three minutes!”

Three minutes later exactly, the two left. The air outside was warm, but in the car it was horribly humid. Still, Roman was able to make it to work within record time. The car journey was always a liminal space for Logan: going from home to work, Roman found it hard to find the point where he switched from the tired and soft self to the stone-faced and cold-hearted persona. However, by the time they entered the prison, Logan had already assumed his role. He greeted Virgil, who was dishing out the breakfast dishes to all the prisoners.

“Are we all ready for the day?” Virgil asked sardonically. Logan glanced at Patton who held his gaze.

“I suppose we’d better be.” Logan sighed. “When will Remus be here?”

“In half an hour.”

Patton interjected softly. “Please, sir, be careful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed, feel free to leave some thoughts behind if you want. Thanks again!


	6. Remus.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally: the trash man arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a slightly shorter chapter so I apologize for that, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Trigger warnings: mentions and (very brief) imagery of blood.

Logan inspected the newly-prepared cell, checking and re-checking his timetable and calendar and journal. The clicking of all the clocks drove him to near-madness, making him aware of the constant passage of time.

“Are you sure we can’t help him?” Virgil asked, peeking into Logan’s office from outside.

“Just leave him to it. He’ll tire himself out eventually or just realise that everything is actually okay.” Replied Roman, leaning on the wall between the hall of prisoners and Logan’s office. Suddenly, there was a shrill ringing whipping through the air, harsh like a gust of cold and bitter wind. Logan leapt over his desk to join Roman and Virgil, who swiftly made their way down to the door through which some other officers would be bringing Remus any second. Halfway down the line, Dee scampered to join the three men, the soles of his shoes scuffing the floor, making a horrible screech noise with almost every step.

“Fucking hell, Dee, do you want to make any more noise?” Virgil hissed.

“Just letting you all know I’m coming.”

“You’d be better off letting us know when you’ve decided to fuck off.”

“Virgil, chill out. Be nice, both of you.” Roman interjected before the argument could proceed; Virgil was already going red and Dee’s fists already clenched.

“And Dee,” Logan said, his voice too monotone for him to be calm, “I wouldn’t start being a nuisance right now.”

“Aw, did Patton tell you to be careful? Are you taking his words to heart? How sweet: first you give him your name, now you care about what he has to say.”

“I care about what he has to say a lot more than whatever shit comes out of your mouth. Now let us all settle down, he’ll be here soon.” Logan retorted as they approached the door – the very same which Patton had entered just days before, and the one that countless men had walked through to wait to die. Sometimes, it was easy to forget what these people had done, and even easier to forget that they were to be untimely ripped from this world. After a minute of silence so loud it seemed to echo, the mechanical crunch of the door opening snapped through the air, and in walked two guards from a sister prison, with a bedraggled-looking man stood between them. Logan assessed him briefly: his hair had been matted with dirt and tangled beyond salvage; his skin was ghostly pale but his eyes had dark pools all around them; his hands were covered in cuts and scabs. He also reeked of something awful, and Logan wasn’t sure he wanted to know what it was. Roman looked repulsed, Virgil’s face twisted into a bitter expression, but Dee remained flat. Roman was the first to comment.

“Isn’t it standard procedure to make sure the people you bring here are clean?” He said accusatorily.

“He was clean when we left. We have no idea how he does it, but if you find a way to stop him getting dirty, I’d consider it a miracle.” Replied the bigger of the two. Logan dismissed them hastily, and had Roman and Virgil hold him at both arms as escorts.

“Your name is Remus, yes?” Logan asked. He was met with silence. “Can you hear me?”

“They did say he was going to be crazy…” Dee reasoned, poking him at the shoulder blades. Logan, like an old-fashioned teacher, slapped his wrist away.

“They _also_ said he’d be fit for death-row.” Logan replied through gritted teeth.

“Yeah well you know what they’re like. The more people they can get rid of the better.” Virgil said when they reached the hall with everyone else. Jason’s was the first cell they passed, and Remus’s was just opposite. Even so, Tony and Patton had their heads peeking through the bars to get a look at him, and Jason had his back turned once again. They both had the same expression: a tentative concern, very far removed from the usual curiosity or excitement. Suddenly, Virgil and Roman fell to the ground, keeled over in pain. Remus laughed maniacally and sprinted down the corridor towards Patton’s cell. Patton flung himself far into his cell, out of his reach. Remus climbed the bars, somehow pulling himself up off the ground despite being handcuffed. Roman and Virgil groaned in pain, and Dee was stood still in shock, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly ajar. Remus screamed, hitting the chain between the handcuffs against the metal bars, making a horrendously shrill clatter. He remained there for several seconds, before leaping back to the ground and sprinting back towards Logan, screaming and laughing the entire time. Logan had to act fast, what with two of his team in pain and the other stood uselessly: he reached for the baton carried at his side, whipped it out and waved it threateningly in the air, shouting Remus’s name. However, Remus didn’t stop the chaos. Logan ran towards him and, before he could run away or attack, smacked him at the back of the head with the baton. He collapsed onto the floor and lay limp. Gasping, he and Dee dragged his body into the cell and added an extra lock.

“Oh dear god.” Virgil groaned, glaring at Remus’s unconscious figure. “How long do we have to put up with that?”

“Just over two months.” Replied Logan, blinking hard.

“Is it possible to move the execution date any sooner?” Dee asked, still stood frozen on the spot.

“You can if you want to,” Roman said sardonically, “and if you did, I’d cover you so you wouldn’t end up here either.” All four of them laughed.

“Hey!” Tony yelled, gripping the bars of his cell. “I’m dying in like a month anyway, I’ll kill him for you if you want!”

“Tony, _no_!” Virgil laughed. He and Roman got up. Virgil dusted himself off but Roman leant on the wall, clutching his stomach.

“Virgil, Dee, would you two please make yourselves useful elsewhere?” Logan commanded.

“Whatever you say…” Replied Dee. Like children being sent to bed, they left without another word, leaving through the door leading to the mile. As soon as it clicked shut, Logan rushed to Roman’s aid.

“Roman, what’s happened to you?” Logan asked, trying to see what could be causing him such pain, but Roman brushed him away.

“You need to check his sleeves. He has something stored there, like a knife or something.” He slid to the ground, trying to level his breathing.

“What? Why didn’t you say anything?” Logan scrambled to unlock Remus’s cell, baton at hand, and slid it up the loose sleeves. Sure enough, a rattling sound presented itself. Logan ripped open his shirt and was greeted with a small blade, likely from a pair of scissors, strapped to his right lower femur. Logan’s blood ran cold when he saw the top few centimetres of the blade coated in glistering red blood. He removed the strap and buttoned up the shirt. Locking the cell behind him (and contemplating acquiring a third lock), he rushed back to Roman’s side.

“We need to get you to a hospital immediately.”

“No, that isn’t necessary I swear it’s only a small wound and you know what the waiting times are like it’ll be fine, Logan I swear it’s not that bad.”

“No but what if it gets infected? What then?”

“Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying!” Logan retorted with tears already streaming down his cheeks.

“Logan!” Patton yelled from down the corridor. One hand was reaching out, stretching far as if he were trying to grab him. “Bring him to me, I can help.”

“What?”

“Come here. Please, trust me.” Logan and Roman looked at each other. Logan reached to help him up, but Roman waved him away.

“It’s okay, I can stand.” He said valiantly. Logan watched as he stumbled after taking one step. “Okay Logan please help me I am _dying_!” Logan had Roman sling an arm over his shoulders and had one arm wrapped around his waist. He practically dragged him to Patton, dropping him just a foot away from the bars. Though Logan had had no idea what to expect from Patton, it was certainly not what had followed: with one hand, he grabbed Roman by the collar and pulled him inwards, slamming him against the metal bars. He then struck him in the stomach with the other hand, exactly where the puncture wound was. Logan was paralysed with fear, but Roman barely made a sound, instead he giggled. A golden glow appeared to drift from all around Patton and drifted down to his hand and into Roman’s abdomen, before evaporating like any ordinary mist. Jerkily, Patton dropped him onto the floor – and Patton being as tall as he was, it was quite a height for Roman to fall.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I haven’t done that in a while and forgot what it does to my head. Did I hurt you? I’m sorry!” He rambled sincerely. The other two could do nothing but stare at him in awe. Roman felt his stomach.

“What the hell did you just do?” He asked.

“A more pertinent question is: did it work? Are you still bleeding?”

“I’m not. I’m perfectly fine.”

“How did you do that?” Logan asked, his glasses steamed up from being so teary.

“I don’t know. It’s just something I can do.”

“Well,” Logan stuttered, “thank you, very much.” He turned to Roman who, realizing he was still on the floor, scrambled back to his feet. He was perfectly fine, as if nothing had ever been wrong. Before he could help himself, Logan flung himself at him and squeezed him tightly.

“Hey, Logan, it wasn’t that bad.” Roman laughed. Still, despite his forced irreverence, he smiled and put a hand on his head, playing softly with his hair.

“You scared me to death, you fool!” Logan pulled back, grabbed Roman’s face, and kissed him before enfolding him once more.

“You always kiss me like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.”

“Very unprofessional, Logan!” Teased Tony with a boyish grin.

“Oh hush.” Logan retorted emitting the same energy. He looked back, and saw Patton in the farthest corner of the cell sat on the floor clawing at his hair.

“Patton? Is everything alright?” He asked, turning to face him fully.

“It will be.” He replied.

“Logan?” Roman whispered in his ear. “We need to go to the bathroom; you’ve cried half of your foundation away.” Logan pulled away.

“Did you bring it with you?” He asked, somewhat dumbfounded. Roman whipped out a palette.

“I always carry this with me! A prince has got to slay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe I'm 12k in and have only just introduced the biggest plot element? Anyway, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and any feedback/constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!


	7. Gone Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the last straw for Roman: when Logan gets so bad that he can barely register his surroundings anymore, he decides that enough is enough and takes him home. The problem is that he doesn't know how others will react to him rising to his new role while Logan's gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to lie: I wrote this just now in a bit of a rush to get a chapter out today so it is shorter than the others. Please inform me of grammar/spelling mistakes since I may have missed some. Trigger warnings just include a mention and description of Logan's depression. I hope you enjoy!

Logan had been sat patiently for several minutes before Roman had finally put the brush down.

“Okay,” he smiled, “all done!” He pulled out a mirror and let Logan stare at his face. He went to touch the foundation, but caught himself before he touched his face.

“Thank you, it looks excellent.” He said flatly.

“You’re not cringing away at your face in disgust, are you okay?” Roman laughed nervously. Logan put the mirror down and sighed. Roman tried to reach out to grab his hand, but refrained.

“May we agree to never talk about whatever the hell Patton just did?” Logan asked.

“Oh, sure.” Roman replied. He tilted his head. “May I ask why?” He was answered with nothing more than silence, and more silence. He didn’t even look like he heard him.

“We should get back to work.” Logan said. His eyes had a look of emptiness as if he’d just heard bad news. “Thanks again.”

“Okay, Lo,” Roman sighed, “you’ve done enough. I’m taking you home.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re barely alive. Have you seen or heard yourself today? You shouldn’t be here.”

“But I have things to do!” Logan protested. It took all the self-control he had not to stamp his foot in a tantrum like a child.

“Not today. I’ll get Virgil or myself to do them when I come back. Let’s go.” Not wanting to be antagonistic, Logan followed Roman as he made his way outside, fumbling for the keys.

“Where are you going?” Virgil asked as Roman threw open the door.

“I’m taking Logan home.” He pulled Logan along with him before having to elaborate.

Logan sat in the passenger seat of the car. When Roman got in, he slammed the door behind him and gripped the wheel tightly, took a deep breath with his eyes closed, before finally starting. He didn’t say a word to Logan as he started to drive. He didn’t even try to meet his gaze.

“Are you upset?” Logan asked, re-directing his eyes out the window. “Be honest.”

“Yeah, but not at you.” Roman replied. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Logan’s eyebrows furrow and his eyes squint.

“At Dee? We’ve barely seen him today – but I suppose I can’t blame you.” The two fell silent for a moment. Suddenly, Roman burst out laughing. Logan simply grew more confused.

“You’re so clueless sometimes considering how sharp you can be.”

“Thank you.” Although the rest of the journey home was silent, at least the tension between them had gone.

Virgil slid down the wall casually against next to Patton’s cell and sat on the floor.

“When do you think Remus will wake up?” He asked him and Tony.

“I can only hope it takes him a while.” Tony said. Patton, who Virgil could see at an angle if he tilted his head, simply shrugged his shoulders, frowning.

“You good, Pat?”

“My head just hurts, it’ll be fine.”

“Is that what happens when you do the magic?” Jason called from the corner as if he had suddenly found his voice.

“Something like that.” Patton replied.

“Excuse me? What _magic_?” Virgil jumped up, striding to the middle of the hall and glaring accusingly between the three of them (skipping over the still-sleeping Remus).

“It’s just a joke, mister.” Tony laughed.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Virgil muttered, sitting back down. “Magic isn’t even real.” He didn’t see it, but Tony and Patton glanced at each other and smirked. After less than a minute, just as Virgil, was about to get back up and mop the floor, Roman came back alone.

“Is the boss alright?” Tony asked immediately.

“He will be, don’t worry.” Roman smiled.

“What’s happened?” Patton got up to the edge of his cell, concern plastered all over his face.

“Nothing too bad, he’ll be fine – oh, Virgil! A word, please.”

“I was just about to mop.”

“Get Dee to do it. Make him useful.”

The two were now alone in the corridor of the mile.

“I need to figure out how to word this…” Roman whispered, stubbornly refusing to look anywhere near Virgil.

“Is Logan okay? That’s all I want to know right now.” Virgil interjected.

“I can’t say he is. His depression is getting really bad again and there’s nothing I can do to help him except make sure he doesn’t try to overwork himself. That’s why I sent him home. Look, I just want to tell you that while he’s like this, I’m going to have to take on his role.”

“Do you want me to tell Dee?”

“No way; he fucking hates you, I’ll do that bit, but just don’t tell the guys. It’s weird how much he and they care about each other considering the circumstances, and we both know that it only takes one thing for one of them to crack. So just tell them he has a cold or something. That’s much less serious.”

“Okay, no worries about that. How do you think Dee will take it?” Virgil asked, trying to keep a straight face at the thought of the exchange.

“Well,” Roman sighed, “I’ll see.”

“Dee, I’m taking on Logan’s role for a bit while he’s… While he’s sick.”

“He’s sick?”

“Sick of all your bullshit, probably.” Roman muttered bitterly.

“Probably?” Dee grinned.

“_Definitely_ sick of all your bullshit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm sorry it's shorter and a bit later than usual, but I hope you enjoyed! :D


	8. An Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long day comes to an end. Virgil gets to spend some time with the prisoners in the quiet, and Roman gets to come home to his love. However, they're still in a dilemma as to what to do about the ethereal Patton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings might apply for this one! Brief discussions about death, and brief discussions about depression. Other than that, it should be fine. I won't be uploading another chapter next week as I'll be too busy preparing for Christmas. I hope you enjoy!

Closing time. Logan had been sent home, Roman had left early to join him, and Dee had gone right at the end of his day shift, leaving only Virgil behind over the evening. He didn’t mind; everyone else could be so loud and chaotic, but Virgil worked best in the quiet. Of course, he jumped at every sound and every shadow sent shivers down his spine, but the prisoners were much quieter and better for Virgil’s temperament than his own colleagues. He could take his time, talk to them and get to know them, or even make friends with them if they were up to talking. He noticed that every prisoner to come in was always one of two types: happy to talk and easy to get along with, or stoic and silent. Even on louder days, Tony fell into the former category; he was certainly a character, but Virgil could almost see him as a friend. Maybe in a different life. Jason, on the other hand, was the latter category. Nobody knew anything about him apart from what happened at his trial, and even some of those facts became obscured after a while. Virgil found, however, that Remus had created his own new category after just one night – clearly, he was neither silent nor friendly. Rather, he seemed to really like screaming and shouting. As Virgil was mopping up, the noise stopped. The silence startled him just as much as the noise did.

“Hey, Virgil!” He bellowed. “Virgil, listen!” He shouted after a second having gotten no reply.

“What do you need, Remus?” Virgil replied, exasperated.

“Have you ever thought about _dying_?” Patton and Tony looked up. Remus stared, his gaze demented.

“I prefer not to.” He continued mopping after realizing that he’d stopped.

“Why not? Doesn’t it sound fun?”

“No, it really doesn’t.” He mopped harder.

“Don’t ignore me, Virgil! I’m trying to make friendly conversation!”

“There’s nothing friendly about that.” Patton interjected, rising up inside his cell. Even though he couldn’t physically get to him, Remus dropped his gaze and stepped back. All fell silent once more, save for the ringing in Virgil’s ear.

“Hey, Tony.” Remus called.

“What the fuck could you possibly want?” He spat harshly.

“Have _you_ ever thought about dying?”

“More than I’d like, and if you don’t shut your mouth then you’ll be doing more than thinking about it.”

“Guys, stop. All of you.” Virgil glared at Remus. He caught himself gulping. “I literally just need to mop and then I’m out and the night staff are coming in. Be bothersome around them instead.”

“I thought Logan was part of the night staff – he’s been here at night a few times.” Jason said out of the blue. He turned his back to face Virgil. His eyes were tired and hardly alive. “But he’s sick, isn’t he?”

“Logan isn’t part of the night staff, he just does whatever he wants.” Patton said nonchalantly before Virgil could even think how to reply.

“How did you know that?” Virgil asked, astounded. Tony giggled in the background. Patton smirked and winked.

“Magic.”

Roman stumbled through the door, the door slamming itself shut. Panting like a dog, he placed his hands on his face. He was so cold that he couldn’t feel either of them. Tentatively, he crept around the corner and peeked into the living room. As hoped, Logan was still in the same place as when Roman had left him: curled up on the sofa engulfed by a blanket. The only difference was that the water bottle he’d left with him had been half-emptied. His eyes lingered for a few moments on his figure, thinking that he was sleeping. However, he squirmed and pulled the corner of the blanket over his face.

“I’m awake,” he groaned, “but don’t look at me; I’m a mess.”

“And you say I’m the grandiose one.” Roman giggled.

“You are, just today I am as well.”

“It seems so.”

“How long have you been home?” Logan asked, shuffling so just his eyes were visible above the blanket.

“Just got in.” Roman replied leaning against the doorframe.

“That explains why you’re so wind-blown, then.”

“Sorry?”

“I mean – it’s a good look!” Logan shot up, the blanket falling onto his lap. “Very endearing and soft, it’s not bad at all.”

“Love, I wasn’t accusing you of anything.”

“Wind-blown is a good look.”

“Really?” Roman teased, grinning. “Not as good a look as your general being.” Seeing Logan turn red made Roman fall in love with him all over again.

“Bitch.” He muttered.

“Not my smoothest.”

“And _yet_ you still managed to make me blush! Magic!”

“Oh, speaking of magic…” Roman said, going to sit on the sofa to be next to Logan. “I know we said we wouldn’t, but we do need to address what happened today.” As if he’d flipped a switch, the room felt mellow and grey.

“I didn’t dream it, then?” Logan asked, adjusting himself to sit straight.

“No, you didn’t. What did he do? You’re smart, do you know what he did?”

“I wish I knew, but I have no idea. It’s the golden glow that’s irking me. If he hadn’t done that, I would maybe have some explanation, but the glow? Why did he have to do that?”

“I don’t know. I have no idea. Should we tell someone?” Roman suggested with a voice filled with mystery and wonder.

“Yeah, we should, be we can’t.” Logan sighed.

“What? Why?”

“Because if they don’t believe us then we’ll lose our jobs for making up lies and being unfit for the work. And if they do, then what’ll happen to him? He’ll be taken away and he’ll have experiments conducted on him, definitely without his consent because the government gives a total of zero shits about the citizens, and we won’t even know what happens to him. They’ll kill him! And he won’t even make the news because the man doesn’t even have a real last name.”

“They will kill him. And what are we getting paid to do?” Roman argued. Truthfully, he agreed with every word that Logan said, but he shivered at the thought of anyone else finding out about Patton, and them finding out that he and his partner knew the whole time. What would become of them if that happened? If Virgil knew, everything would probably be fine – but what if _Dee_ found out?

“We’re getting paid to keep those guys calm while they wait peacefully for their sentence. Let’s not equate that with conducting dangerous and unethical experiments.”

“Okay.” Roman conceded. “It was a beautiful glow.”

“What did you do while I was gone?” Roman asked. He and Logan had been in the study for nearly an hour, but Logan had been doing anything but studying. Though he did indeed have a book open on his lap, he had been spending more time staring at the wall ahead of his than reading it.

“Nothing.” He replied.

“What will you do tomorrow?”

“Pretty much the same.”

“Hey, Logan?” Roman said. He felt his heart palpitating and his arms felt heavy. Logan, however, looked calm.

“What do you need?”

“You’ve said before that… That your depression was worse before we met.”

“Yes. Just to be clear, you didn’t cure me. I love you and my life is better with you in it, but you didn’t cure me.”

“No, no.” Roman stammered. His mind whirred searching for the right thing to say. Words failed. “Never mind.”

“But let me be clear,” Logan said, his eyes wide, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“That’s gay, man.”

“We’re gay. We’ve been together for, what, five years?”

“Not enough years.”

“There’ll never be enough years.” Logan said, pressing his fingertips to his temple. “I’ll take what I can get with you, though.” Even after a bad day, seeing Roman try to hide a smile and try to hide himself blushing would always make Logan feel better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it! Feel free to leave feedback :D


	9. Empty.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan still can't get to work, and Dee doesn't seem to know how to stop being a nuisance. Roman's day doesn't improve when Virgil brings him some news regarding tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Apologies for not posting last week, but I hope you understand. There are no trigger warnings here apart from depression and the like, nothing that hasn't been in previous chapters. I hope you enjoy!

“The good thing about emptiness,” Logan said snuggled up among the bedsheets, “is that it doesn’t feel overwhelming; it doesn’t even feel.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Roman asked. He switched off the light, plunging the room into darkness, and crawled into bed within the sheets and with Logan.

“Better than what it could be.” He sighed. He felt Roman feel his way towards him and before Logan knew it, he was acting as a second mattress for Roman, whose head and hand rested on his chest in search of Logan’s heartbeat.

“What could it be?” He whispered.

“A lot worse.”

“Well yeah, but how so?”

“There’s the self-hatred that manifests into anger. Not to romanticize my own experiences but I’d rather never feel anything ever again than go back to hating myself so much that the people around me suffer, and I start hurting you as a result.”

“Yeah, I can see how that’d be worse.”

“Not to mention the accompanying guilt that comes with it all. It’s an ugly thing.”

“I can’t even imagine.” Roman said before promptly falling asleep on Logan’s chest.

“I wouldn’t even want you to.” Whispered Logan, knowing he’d get no response. He sighed, before also falling asleep – asleep, in this case, actually just meant lying still with closed eyes.

As the sun shone through the curtains another day, Roman woke up. He pat around him, finding solace in being with Logan. He still slept, but his presence was enough. Sleepily, Roman sat up and blinked heavily at the window, silently cursing the early morning brightness in his tired eyes. He got up, got dressed, and went downstairs, with Logan not even stirring the entire time. He went to the kitchen, flicked on the kettle, and prepared one cup of tea (he didn’t expect that Logan would be coming down for a while). As he poured the water, the hot steam really started to pour around the room. Roman held the cup to his chest, holding it so the heat would be just over his heart. He didn’t move it even when it started to burn, but just held it there and sniffed the aroma of the tea.

Roman was already out the door, fumbling around his pockets to find the key to the car, before he stopped and thought before going back in. He considered for a moment simply not showing up to work, making Virgil call in someone from the night staff to replace him for the day, or calling Dee to give him things to do over the phone so that he could stay home. In the end, however, he simply wrote the note he wanted.

_Good morning, Logan. I’m at work. Text me if you need anything._

He put the pen down. He looked at the note. He then drew a smiley face at the end before finally actually leaving.

“You’re fifteen minutes late, Roman.” Dee hissed as Roman stumbled in the hall. He was mopping, as always. “Is Logan the only thing that keeps you on time? Without him, do you just break?”

“Oh my god Dee I beg of you to shut the fuck up for once.” Roman spat, exasperated and agitated.

“Oh, how long will it take without him before you crumble?”

“Where’s Virgil?”

“Why do you need to know?” At that moment, the door to Logan’s office swung open and Virgil stood meekly in the corner.

“Why are you being so bitchy to each other?” He said. “For the love of god, Dee, you just mop. Roman, come here please.” Virgil let the door fall to a close. Roman and Dee gave each other one last glare, neither wanting to be the first to look away. However, for Roman at least, duty called. He stepped into the office.

“Why are you in Logan’s office?” Roman asked as soon as the door clicked closed.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to check something–” he pointed at the calendar hung on the wall–“do you know when Jason is scheduled to walk the mile?”

“Sometime soon I suppose?”

“Tomorrow. Logan’s already done all the paperwork so we don’t need to worry about a thing. Can you just… Tell him for me? Please?” Virgil’s arms were crossed. One leg was crossed over the other. To Roman, this could mean only two things: gay or anxious. Knowing Virgil, he was both.

“Don’t want to get Dee to do it?” Roman smiled.

“Would _you_?”

“Oh hell no!” They laughed. It almost felt good. “Okay, should I do it now?” Virgil nodded sombrely. They both got up and left.

Roman couldn’t see Dee anywhere. It would almost me astounding how quickly he could disappear if it didn’t cause panic wondering what havoc he and his morose demeanour could wreak. Nevertheless, he went to see Jason who, as always, had his back to the bars. Roman couldn’t be entirely sure what he looked like anymore.

“Jason? Are you there?” He asked. He didn’t turn around, but he sat up.

“Sure am.” He replied with a gravelly voice. He sounded huskier than Roman remembered.

“I just came to tell you that… That tomorrow is your execution day. Do you understand?” For a second, there was silence. Even the generic buzzes and hums seemed to fade away.

“I understand. Thanks.”

“Okay.” It wasn’t the first time Roman had said those words, but he wasn’t sure he would ever figure out how to say them. “Are you alright?” He asked, hoping that Jason would feel like he cared.

“Fine, just empty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, sorry it's so short, but please feel free to leave any feedback! Question: who are your favourite characters so far?


	10. Patton's Suggestion.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dee doesn't know when to stop, this everyone knows, but the matter of Jason's sentence makes him take things just one step too far. When Patton makes a potential life-altering suggestion to Roman, hope is restored in both himself and Logan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No trigger warnings for this that you haven't heard before except talks about depression. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy! :D

Roman took a step back, his stare lingering on the back of Jason’s head. His hair had grown out past his shoulders, despite routine monthly haircuts. He never used to refuse the care that was provided; time had made him bitter and melancholy and, if he were honest with himself, Roman couldn’t blame him. He doubted that he’d last very long in a cell waiting to die. Even his debonair, charming, and dramatic façade would fall. No, Roman couldn’t blame Jason at all.

“So we’re killing him tomorrow?” Dee said, suddenly appearing behind Roman. He didn’t hear his footsteps approaching.

“Don’t say ‘we’ as if I’m letting you even touch the poor man.” Roman snarled. He could sense Virgil watching from Logan’s office, standing by the door’s window as if he belonged there, knowing he’d do nothing for him.

“Don’t say that as if you’re the one in charge here. Logan might not be here, but he’s still the boss. Learn your place.”

“No.” Dee turned around to see who spoke. It wasn’t Roman, certainly. “You need to learn your place.” Tony quivered in his cell visibly even from Roman’s standpoint.

“Are you one to talk when you’re stuck there by yourself because you killed a girl? Huh? Do you really think I’d listen to someone like you?”

“Dee, enough.” Roman said flatly as he watched Tony turn red. “Don’t bother coming in tomorrow.” He added. Sharply, he clicked his heels and strode past him, taking extra care to barge past his shoulder.

“Roman?” Patton called. Though he intended to talk to Virgil, he diverted his path to face Patton’s cell.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, exasperated.

“Will Logan be coming in tomorrow? For Jason, I mean…”

“Oh,” Roman sighed, “I think he’ll have to. He did all the work and he’s the one who talks with you guys the most. But, I don’t know…”

“Why can’t he?”

“He’s sick.” He said sternly. He eyed Dee from down the hall and leaned in closer to whisper. “And not in a way that you can help him.” Patton laughed. Not spitefully, nor even pitifully. Still, Roman was taken aback at his apparent glee.

“I think I’ll surprise you. If he can manage, bring him in tomorrow and just see.” He grinned, then winked, before retreating into a back corner of his cell.

_Who are we to presume he can’t fix depression? He healed your puncture wound easily enough._ Roman’s phone lit up. Strictly speaking, he shouldn’t be texting while at work. However, so long as Dee stayed away, it was fine.

_They’re a bit different though, aren’t they? I mean, a stab is one thing, but mental health is different._ He typed quickly and surreptitiously. He was vigilant to ensure that the local pest stayed away. If Virgil had to see him, it would be fine (Roman had little doubt that Virgil spends most of his time texting anyway), but Dee would be the first to go to someone and snitch.

_Roman._ The reply was instant, within a second. Then, another one just a few seconds after. _I, of the two of us, know that depression is more convoluted and nuanced than physical injury. But it’s worth a try, wouldn’t you think?_ And then shortly after, _now get back to work._

As with all times in summer, sunlight stretched throughout the day, and the heat would be sweltering if not for the air conditioning that Logan had demanded funding for just last year. Having the window open made Roman feel more connected with the real world, with normal people, with the prison being where it was. Cars driving by, engines starting, occasionally a rogue voice if it were loud enough. The smell of smoke or cooking meat as people took advantage of the hot weather and cooked outside while they could. Even though he was at work most of the time, Roman felt better in the summer. When he’d brought this up with Logan two years prior, he’d said that sunlight helps the brain to release serotonin. He hadn’t believed him, but considering it with the knowledge he had since acquired, it made sense: even Logan’s symptoms tended to improve on sunny days and Virgil often seemed perkier. Days like these made Roman feel more grateful to be alive, and resentful of the hardest part of his job. They made him mournful for those of the past, and melancholy for those yet to come. Jason was next. Though he didn’t have as much of a presence as Tony or Patton (nor Remus, but having less of a presence than him can only be good), he was still a human. A person. A prisoner, a murderer, but a person nonetheless. Roman wasn’t even sure if he had committed the crime; too often people have been convicted and sentenced and only been found innocent when it was too late. Logan hadn’t experienced those circumstances often, but the few times he had had given him more sleepless nights and unkind thoughts than he seemed able to stand. Roman reminded himself of what Patton said. To just see if he could help him. Roman didn’t know if it could be feasible, knowing what he once thought he knew but knowing what he had since thought, anything seemed possible. Maybe Logan could get better. Maybe things would turn out okay for him. Maybe things could be like how they both wanted. It was all down to Patton.

“Tomorrow’s going to be busy!” Roman exclaimed, closing the door and kicking off his shoes.

“Just what I need.” Logan said, monotone. Roman’s face fell. “Oh, don’t be like that, I was joking. I’m sorry, come here.” Roman quickly organized his shoes on the rack before scurrying into the living room. He sat with Logan on the sofa. Gently, he cupped his face in his hands and pulled him in for a kiss.

“So many things are going to happen. Big things. Do we want Dee to be there?” Roman muttered between kisses.

“No, of course not.”

“Didn’t think so.”

“But I need to be in tomorrow… I know you might not want me to, but I need to be there. Jason needs it.”

“And Patton, too. What if he’s right? What if he can heal you? Will we even know?”

“I’ll probably know later tomorrow. It’s usually at night when my thoughts start to get spicy.” Logan said, his eyes becoming shallow.

“You’re white, every thought is probably spicy.” Roman smiled.

“So, because you’re Latino, are you immune to depression?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Oh fuck off.” Logan laughed. So did Roman, though at least partly for the euphoria of seeing Logan laugh again. How many times, he wondered, might he get to hear that laugh again if Patton is right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading, I hope you liked it! Apologies for the short chapters, life is getting in the way a bit, but thank you for reading anyway, your support means a lot.


	11. Ticks and Scribbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today's the day: Jason will finally be executed. Even though Logan's mental health is whirlpooling, he must attend to see to it that his execution is carried out properly. Dee is desperate to join, while everyone else is desperate to not have to be there. However, it seems that everything will be okay -- for all except Jason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been thinking to have chapters posted every two weeks so that they can be longer. Thoughts? Regardless, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Logan recalled the conversation earlier that day and how he said that his thoughts were the worst at night. He remembered how he’d laughed as if the night were a thousand years away and as though he would never feel bad again. As he lay on the bed with Roman sleeping soundly next to him, he was forced back into the reality of himself and how he can’t just laugh to get rid of his problems. He stared at the window, which provided the only source of light thanks to a nearby streetlamp and grew increasingly frustrated with himself. His eyes were burning. Every blink stung. He hadn’t moved nor slept in at least two hours. He was exhausted, bored, and upset. He was desperate for the day to end. He wanted to just start a new day. He couldn’t. Every so often, he’d hear a ringing in his ear but it didn’t even disturb him in the slightest. He just kept staring and blinking and trying not to think about some things. Relapsing. The past. The future. His secrets. The things that aren’t secrets but aren’t flaunted either. Morbid though it was, he thought about Jason. He wondered, too, how Patton and Remus would react. Tony had seen his fair share of executions and his eccentric nature had simmered on such days, but Remus and Patton had never. He could picture it now: Remus would probably be excited or curious or even ask to do it himself, while Patton would be rightly morose or sentimental or even ask to do whatever it is that he does to help him. Then, Logan remembered what else might happen tomorrow. Far from hopeful though he was, thinking of such a possibility made him envy Jason just a little less.

The backs of Logan’s eyelids had lightened up. He heard the chirp of birds from outside and the sound of Roman rolling around, just starting to wake up. The bags under his eyes after another sleepless night were practically all he could feel. Softly, Roman spoke.

“Today’s the day.” He sounded as if he were mumbling to himself. His voice was so quiet that it would be impossible to think that he had intended for Logan to hear. Still, he replies.

“It’s just another day.”

“Oh!” He jumped. “I didn’t know you were awake.

“It’s so very bold of you to presume that I have slept.” Logan muttered, throwing a hand over his forehead dramatically.

“Nervous? Or just one of those things?”

“We both know exactly what thing it is.”

Silence seemed to echo within the car on the way to work. Logan swallowed his shame and tried to pretend that he had been there the whole time. Strangely, the prison felt like a second home. Sometimes, even, the closest thing to a home he had. He wasn’t nervous. Today would just be its own routine. He eyed Roman, who had both of his hands sternly on the wheel and his stare out the window looked like the line between a focused gaze and an icy glare. Even when they had parked and just had to walk through the gate, the two remained silent. Logan observed how Roman’s hands were together and how he scratched lightly at his palms and how his eyes twitched and how he just seemed to shake. Similarly, Roman observed how Logan had his chin held high, his eyes fixed ahead, and his hands lay strictly at his sides.

When they walked in, the first thing that the pair noticed was Dee not at Jason’s cell taunting him like they had expected, but at Tony’s. They couldn’t tell what was being said, but the fact that Tony hadn’t punched him yet was surely a good sign. Then, their eyes trickled to the left to Virgil leaning on the wall near the bars to Patton’s cell. Nobody was around Remus, and nobody was around Jason. Logan cleared his throat.

“Good morning.” He said. Virgil and Dee looked at him as if they hadn’t noticed him enter. Remus, Patton, and Tony poked their heads through the bars. All five of them lit up, their eyes bright and smiles wide.

“Logan, how’ve you been?” Asked Virgil.

“It’s good to see you again.” Said Dee with his lips twisting into a sly grin.

“The boss is back! Fuck yeah!” Bellowed Tony, gripping his bars.

“Are you feeling okay?” Patton asked tentatively. All their words came to him at once.

“It’s good to see you guys too!” Laughed Roman, stood just behind Logan. With just a glance, it was clear to Logan that he wasn’t hurt.

“Of course it’s good to see us!” Bellowed Remus, who flung himself at the bars and started climbing around the cell like a hamster on a cage. “But is it good for us to see you? Especially poor Jason over here – look at him while you can!” He laughed. It was more like a shriek. Jason remained unseen and unheard.

“Remus, shut up.” Logan said through gritted teeth. A strong silence fell through the room, leaving only a ringing, an awkwardness, and a wish among them all for someone else to say something. “We all know what’s happening today. People from our sister prison will be here as per usual and that’s when the execution will commence. This is where I’d ask for everyone to be on their best behaviour and then say that that isn’t necessary because everyone’s usually alright. However: Remus? Please be quiet.” He concluded with a cold look in his direction.

“Oh, I can be quiet when you need me to be.” He winked. Despite his best efforts to remain stone-faced, Logan could feel himself going red. And, despite all his best efforts not to feel threatened by the mongrel that Remus was, Roman felt himself growing angry. Everybody else froze; Remus doing so much as speaking had never ended in anything short of an emotional calamity.

“Then prove it.”

It was to be another half hour before other authorities would arrive. Logan sat at his office, checking and finalizing all the paperwork, grateful that he’d done everything days ago so all he needed to add was just a few ticks and scribbles, when Dee knocked on the door. Surprised at the courtesy he had to wait for permission before entering, Logan gestured to let him in.

“Do you need to ask me something?” Logan enquired.

“Yes.” Dee replied. He looked timid. Maybe it was just because Logan had never seen him this way before, but seeing him in such a state was almost pitiful.

“What is it?”

“Will you let me be there while Jason is… Walking the mile? Roman said yesterday that he wouldn’t let me, but since you’re here now and you’re the _real_ boss, would you let me?”

“The thing that I don’t understand,” Logan stood up and let his pen roll on the desk, “is why you’re so infatuated with the idea of watching a man die. It isn’t pretty, there’s no glory, no poignancy, no hidden beauty in the pain. You won’t look back and think that you’re a stronger soul for what you’ve witnessed. The fact that you want so desperately to watch Jason die, to even be a part of it, is a question to me, too.” Dee gulped. He eyed Logan up and down, and only then did he realize how close he’d come to him. He was practically pinning him against the wall. He took a step back and bowed his head apologetically.

“I merely want to know what it’s like for you. You’ve been here a while and you said the other day that you’ve become numb to sympathy. I want to know what it takes to do that.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you what.”

“Oh?”

“You watch with Virgil and Roman while other workers and I go through with the procedure. You do what they do, nothing less and especially nothing more. If you can swear to me right now that that will be your sole participation, then you’ll get to be in the room where it happens.”

“Deal.” Dee stuck out his right hand, genteelly curving his left behind his back. Logan took it and shook once, locking eyes with him. In the light of the day, Dee’s brown eyes seemed to turn yellow.

It seemed like barely a minute had passed since Dee had left when Virgil fell through the door.

“They’re at the gate. You need to go greet them.” Virgil said, trying to catch his breath.

“Me? Wouldn’t you have sufficed?” Logan asked, getting up reluctantly.

“I just thought it’d be more appropriate since you’re the boss – unless you want me to get Dee on the case.” He laughed.

“Oh, about that…”

“Yeah, he told me. And Roman. I can’t believe you’re letting that happen, but you’re the boss I guess.” They strode down the corridor together. Arriving at the same door Remus and Patton had entered through, Logan pulled the handle and greeted the two. Reading their nametags, he found that they were Annie and Lydia. He’d never met them before, though their faces looked familiar. Nevertheless, he greeted them like old friends. Virgil less so: awkward, timid, and nervous was never a good combination for meeting new people, especially not on such a significant day.

“We just need to go through the corridors and make sure all your prisoners are registered, standard procedure as I’m sure you know.” Said Lydia, clawing at her hair to keep it out of her face. Annie had hers in a ponytail.

“Remus Faith?” Annie approached Remus’s cell and quickly inspected it. “Yeah, I remember you.”

“Anyone would.” He smirked.

“That’s why. Anyway…” She moved down to Tony as Lydia approached Jason. A few ticks and scribbles on clipboards later, they got to Patton.

“And then there’s you, the one without a name.” Lydia said. Her eyes were soft and eyebrows furrowed in a way that meant something. She wasn’t teasing him, but nor was she sympathetic. Rather, curious.

“My name’s Patton.” He said.

“Is that all?” Annie asked, looking at him surreptitiously.

“No,” Roman interjected, “remember, we gave him a surname for the paperwork! Your name is Patton Chandler, remember?” He turned to Patton, who simply looked lost. Then, as if he recalled the day of his arrival, he sighed and blinked heavily.

“Yeah, I just… Forgot.” Although everyone in the room could tell he was lying, they all accepted it. Ticks and scribbles.

“Okay, so we’re all good to go.” Smiled Lydia. She and Annie approached Jason’s cell and waited for Logan, who had the keys. The sound of a click whipped through the corridor as Logan unlocked his cell, and suddenly everybody was vulnerable. It wouldn’t be the first time that an inmate would decide at the last minute to try to harm everyone around them, though it didn’t happen often and the results were never usually fatal. Usually. Jason looked up at them, but only as if he’d heard the click seconds after it had happened. His eyes looked empty but wet, as if something primal inside begged to survive, but his heart had given up on living.

“Jason? Are you ready?” Logan asked, hesitant to move forwards. He felt Roman, Dee, and Virgil stood behind him. Jason looked absent-minded. Nevertheless, he nodded his head, his matted hair draping over his shoulders as he moved.

“I don’t have a choice.” He mumbled. He stood up and held out his arms. Lydia handcuffed him for security, and she and Logan took to a side and walked out the cell, across the corridor of inmates, and down the mile. Virgil noticed, as they walked past, Tony looking to Jason from deep in his cell, and flashing a supportive smile. He also noticed how the light reflected so much brighter in his wet eyes.

Remus, Patton, and Tony waited. For what, the former two didn’t know. For them all to come back, for Annie and Lydia to leave, for the night staff to come and ask them how they were doing. Tony knew that the execution process would extend far beyond just the day; caskets had to be made, graves dug, epitaphs engraved, and only then would Jason truly feel gone. That, to him, was the worst thing. He’d seen it enough times to know the routine of waking up in the mornings expecting to see someone there and then there simply being nobody there, wondering for a moment if they’d finally been able to escape, then remembering what had happened, feeling a twinge of despair before settling back into the Cold and Hardened prisoner mind. The only difference would be that, after Jason, nobody else stood between him and the chair.

Dee closed the door behind him. It dragged along the floor. The screeching sound was horrible, but eventually it shut. It was silent. All eyes were on Jason, whose eyes were on Logan.

“Would you like a blindfold in case it helps you drift away?” Logan asked, pulling one from his shirt pocket. It was black and made of cotton. Jason nodded his head and took it in his hands, just holding it and passing it between his fingers. While Logan watched, Annie presumed his role: she sat him down, tied the electrodes to his head and legs, and stood back.

“Are you going to put it on?” Dee asked, his eyes wide.

“No. It feels like a stuffed bear I used to have when I was young. That’s more comforting than anything else.” Six hearts simultaneously shattered.

“Roman.” Logan coughed. “The water, if you will.”

“Oh, of course.” Roman approached the bucket near the chair. Grabbing the cloth, he wiped the skin around the electrodes, ensuring that they themselves were wet.

“Do you have any last words?” Asked Virgil, his hand on the lever already. Jason closed his eyes and tilted his head back to lean against the wood. He sighed before speaking.

“Not today, ask me tomorrow.” Every breath could be heard in the silence that followed. Logan looked at Virgil, catching his eyes.

“Three, two one.” Virgil pulled it down. Everyone held their breath. Jason twitched wildly in the chair, grunting and shouting in pain, making the most noise he ever had. The buzz of electricity was inaudible over his yells. Soon after, he stopped. His head drooped forwards in the chair, and his eyes lay shut. Nothing moved. The blindfold lay limply between his fingers. Annie felt for a pulse and checked for breathing. Finding neither, she nodded sombrely at Logan.

“Thank you.” He said. “Will you be back next month?”

“Of course.” Replied Lydia. The two women clutched their clipboards.

“Will you need help taking him down to the mortuary?” Offered Annie, already pulling disposable elbow-length gloves from her pocket.

“Yes, please. Dee, Roman, will you two please assist them?” Logan delegated. The two nodded. They put on Annie’s gloves and took him by a limb each. They carried him through another door and down another corridor, tucked far away from where anyone else would go.

They placed him on the table pulled out for him. Annie and Lydia absconded almost immediately, leaving only Dee and Roman. They looked at each other. Roman had a good three inches on Dee, and looked stronger, too. He remembered that Logan had let him watch Jason’s execution.

“How did that make you feel?” Roman asked. Dee was so young and still very new. This was, to Roman’s immediate memory, the first time he’d had any involvement in an execution.

“Not as bad as I thought it would. I thought I’d be crying.”

“Why aren’t you?”

“I don’t know. Whatever.” Dee went to push the table into the cavity in the wall, before reaching down for the blindfold which, miraculously, was still twisted around Jason’s fingers.

“Hey, don’t touch that.” Roman slapped his hand away and glared straight through him. Dee’s yellow eyes gave him chills.

“Oh fuck off, it’s literally just a blindfold, what if someone else wants one when it’s their turn?” Dee argued, flashing pointed teeth rather too reminiscent of fangs for Roman’s liking.

“We can get a hundred of the damn things for like a penny, come on Dee it costs us nothing to be respectful.”

“What does it even matter? The bastard’s dead anyway!” Roman clenched his fists and braced himself. He was about to pull back when Logan appeared at the doorframe.

“Annie and Lydia have left. Everything’s fine.” He said flatly, ignoring all that could have happened had he been a second delayed. Dee and Roman stared at him blankly. He stared back – at least at the former. “You’re dismissed for today.” He declared, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

“Why?” Protested Dee.

“You and Virgil have gone through enough today. You’re dismissed.”

“Why not Roman, too? Not playing favourites, are we?”

“I said,” Logan spat through gritted teeth, hardening his glare, “you’re dismissed.”

“Whatever.” Dee swaggered out the room without another word. Maintaining eye contact, Roman pushed Jason’s body into the vault and, ensuring the blindfold was still with him, closed the door.

“When we’re sure that they’re gone, are we going to see Patton?” Asked Roman unblinking. His hands quivered at his sides.

“If he’s feeling alright, then yes.” Logan smiled. The same smile that Roman fell for years ago, and the one that he continued to love throughout the years. He walked into Logan’s open arms and engulfed him in his own, balancing on his toes to rest his head on his shoulder.

“You might get better.” Roman whispered. He pulled himself away to grab Logan’s face and pull him closer. He perched up slightly higher and kissed his cheek. Instantly, Logan became red and flustered. He leant against the door and hid his face in his hands.

“I’m already gay for you, you really don’t need to try any harder.” He giggled. Though he tried to remain composed, Roman’s persistent kissing only resulted in him blushing and smiling more.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” Roman teased.

“Okay but I don’t think a mortuary is a great place for flirting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed, feel free to leave a comment on what you think. Feedback is greatly appreciated!


	12. Cured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Jason's execution has finally fallen through, Logan is able to seek the help of Patton (with Roman, of course). His ethereal powers seem to cure him of the depression he's suffered with for years. While they don't know for sure, their hopes are high -- especially when Roman notices the life fall back into him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One trigger warning: detailed description of food, please proceed with care. I hope you enjoy this seemingly trivial but still important chapter!

They waited around the mile before they were sure that they were alone. Roman, giddy with excitement, rocked back and forth between his heels and toes. Logan, skeptical though he usually was, found himself latched onto a glimmer of hope. Knowing that they were finally alone, they walked from the mile and back to the corridor where, now, only Patton, Remus, and Tony remained. Upon entering, the first thing that they both noticed was, not Jason’s absence, but rather Patton sat on the cell floor with his hands around his head. When he had noticed their presence, however, he stood up and approached the bars expectedly. He smiled. His cheeks were rosy and flushed.

“Where does it hurt?” He asked, turning to Logan.

“The head.” He answered. “The mind. It isn’t physical. Can you still do the thing?”

“I definitely can if you come here. I’m sorry but… You have to trust me.”

“It’s okay, Patton,” Roman said reassuringly, “you helped me already.”

“I did? When?”

“Just the other day when Remus arrived and like – what did he even do? I don’t know – stabbed me?” Roman tried to explain but Patton just looked more and more lost.

“Unimportant.” Patton sighed pensively. “Okay, Logan. If you trust me.” Logan stepped closer. Though tentative at first, he thought about Roman; not only had Patton helped him already (although his memory not serving him well almost made Logan doubt that), he thought about how Roman had always wanted the best for him. Had Roman doubted Patton’s ability to help him, Logan doubted that he’d have even let him try. Realizing this, his pace quickened. He stopped just inches away from the bars, easily within reach. Patton stood looming over him. Logan had forgotten how big he actually was; he never tended to examine height and the like when looking into the cells, but he was tall and built to be strong. Carefully, Patton lifted a hand and pressed it lightly against Logan’s temples. Patton closed his eyes, but Logan took in every moment he could.

“I’ve just practised this.” Patton murmured. Much like what he’d seen for Roman, Logan saw a golden glow around his body. Since the source was around his head, it became blinding, a bright light Logan had never seen anything quite like before. He felt lighter, as if figurative emotional weights had been lifted, and less fatigued, too. He felt as if he’d never had a bad night of sleep in his life. He felt so alive. Patton removed his hand and opened his eyes. Logan stared at him, noticing how the colour of his irises so closely resembled Roman’s, and how they were framed with long and dark eyelashes (which Roman could still easily achieve – with mascara).

“How do you feel?” Asked Roman, coming up from behind and taking Logan’s hand to steady him.

“Better.” He said, reaching for where Patton had held him. It felt exactly the same. “But a bit dizzy.”

“That tends to happen for everyone involved.” Patton smiled while gripping a bar.

“Are you _cured_?” Asked Roman wide-eyed.

“I really do feel better. We’ll find out, though. We’ll see about tonight. See what happens then.”

“Is that when you feel it most?” Patton asked.

“Generally.” Logan felt a figurative weight lift off his shoulders. His eyelids didn’t feel as heavy, his head didn’t feel so melancholy, and he could bear to actually feel. Patton smiled tentatively.

“Not anymore.” He said, tiptoeing back into the depths of his cell.

After Logan had contacted the night staff to tell them that his shift had ended early, due both to Jason’s execution and Roman’s own insistence on bringing him home, he and Roman were in the car together, and Logan finally felt at peace.

“What do you think lets him do that?” Roman asked just as they’d left the prison grounds.

“What do you mean?” Logan probed. “Do I think it’s something genetic?”

“Yeah, is it genes or something else?”

“I think it’d be a bit reductionist to give it just one cause. I think that it’s lots of things.”

“God, wouldn’t it be amazing to find out? And then we could give it to more people and medicine would be so much better!”

“No, we can’t.” Logan argued abruptly. Roman seemed taken aback. His eyes narrowed to a squint and his head cocked to the side.

“Why not?”

“Because we’d have to do so many experiments on him – is that fair? Is it our choice to make? And who would fund it? Not us alone so we’d have to tell other people and when they involved, they’d kill him. Yeah, that’s what we need to do…” Logan’s voice trailed off as he remembered what his job was.

“I know we just had an execution today,” Roman sighed, holding one of his hands out the window as he drove, “but sometimes I forget that that’s what we do. I look at Tony and almost consider him a friend, but I couldn’t kill one of my actual friends.”

“Can’t kill what doesn’t exist.” Logan smiled, giving Roman a glance from the side.

“And you’re one to talk about friends, huh?” They laughed. Not loudly, but enough. “We should see if Virgil wants to hang out outside of work sometime. He seems like a good guy.”

“Yeah, we should.”

“Would he like that, do you think?”

“I have no doubt that he would hate it but we could try anyway.”

Logan cooked dinner. The pots felt lighter. Everything seemed to go faster, too. Basic tasks no longer seemed so strenuous.

“You really do seem a lot better.” Roman commented, watching Logan cook from the doorframe.

“How does it look to you?” Logan asked, still focused on the boiling water.

“You’re smiling a lot more already. And you’re more energetic. You have a bit more of a spring in your step and you just don’t look like you’re dragging yourself around anymore. Whether or not you’re happier, I guess we’ll have to wait and see, but you really do seem like you have more life in you already.”

“You seem like you’ve been observing me a lot.”

“I just know you well.” Roman smirked. He watched as Logan hauled the pot to the sink, pouring its contents into a colander. “Oh, the long boys!”

“… Spaghetti?”

“Yeah! The long boys!”

“The long boys are going with the liquidated spice boy with solanum lycopersicum.”

“Liquidated spice boy… Are you using a spicy tomato sauce?”

“See! It’s hard to decipher what you mean when you use obscure language!”

“Logan, it’s important to me specifically that you understand the difference between me calling spaghetti a ‘long boy’ and you calling a god damn fruit by its binomial name.” Roman bickered as Logan combined the contents of the two pots. A crimson liquid spun into the golden strands. Peppers, mushrooms, and a myriad of other vegetables.

“Shush and eat this while I just do one last thing…”

“Is this going to actually be spicy or will it be white person spicy?” Roman teased.

“Considering that the one of us who made this is the white one, take a guess. Now, look at this…” From the oven, Logan pulled out a baguette.

“Is that the only thing that I love nearly as much as you?”

“It’s garlic bread. What’s the point in pasta without garlic bread?”

“So it is!”

“I cannot believe I’m being bested by garlic bread.”

“No, no, no!” Roman corrected. “You’re _nearly _being bested by garlic bread!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed, please feel free to leave any feedback!


	13. All Intrusive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tbh? Roman just goes through it a little bit and Remus and Dee are bitches but we been knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just over 2.2k and I wrote it all just now. Appreciate what I do for this. I don't think there are any triggers but if you think of one let me know. Hope you enjoy!

Roman came down the stairs late that night. As he had slipped out of sleep to coldness beside him, and had opened his eyes to an empty space where Logan usually slept right after Patton had done his unknown something on him, he couldn’t help but worry: what could Logan be doing? What if he were no longer even in the house? He’d left his phone on charge upstairs, so where could Roman even go to try to find him? He crept as silently as the creaky floorboards would allow, but every other step had some eerie sound emitted. The house wasn’t even that old, but it seemed designed to appear haunted just from the sounds alone. The door to the living room opening, however, was silent. The light was on, painfully bright to Roman’s tired eyes, which had become accustomed to the darkness. Inside, he saw Logan sat cross-legged on the sofa with his eyes (not blocked by his glasses, which he must have also left upstairs) fixated on the television screen.

“_Fives? A ten is speaking_.” Played from the speakers. Roman looked to the screen and, indeed, _Queer Eye_ was playing. Logan stared, his body perpendicular to Roman’s. He didn’t look like he was taking it in at all. His eyes seemed vacant, and he was so absent-minded he didn’t even turn his head when Roman walked through.

“Hey, Logan?” Roman said. His voice sounded distant, as if someone had said it from another room, or speaking to him on the phone. Logan didn’t move.

“How long have you been asleep, Roman?” A voice said. Logan’s voice, but he didn’t open his mouth. Roman stared at him, squinting to shield his stinging eyes from the lights which just became brighter and brighter. The sounds from the television all merged into one cacophony. Suddenly, Logan’s neck snapped sideways to face him, his head cocked at an angle that looked broken. Roman watched his eyes turn white, a cloudiness glazing over his irises.

“What do you mean?” Roman asked. How long had he been asleep? Surely, he thought, no more than three hours.

“You’ve been sleeping for a while now,” Logan’s voice said, “do you remember how to wake up?” Another voice, one much closer and warmer, shouted over all the others.

“Roman, wake up, please!” He opened his eyes. It was darker, but he could see. The first thing he saw was Logan to his right, crouching over him. He felt cold and out of breath. Tiny pins of sweat accumulated on his wrists. His face felt damp. The air around him was warm. His head filled with the sound of the gentle hum of electricity from the lamp to his left.

“You have your glasses on!” Roman gasped. He looked through them and into his eyes. Everything seemed so normal.

“Surprisingly, I need them to see.” Logan said before leaning away from him. The sound of his voice was grounding.

“And your voice is here too!”

“What the hell were you dreaming about?”

“I don’t even know,” Roman had to pause between deep breaths, “but you were there.”

“Oh, okay…” Logan seemed taken aback. “Did I do anything?”

“No, nothing at all… That’s what made it so _weird_. You just – you did nothing at all.” A silence fell. Rather, a quietness fell; Roman’s heavy breathing interrupted the silence and he could practically hear Logan thinking.

“Do you feel alright?” He asked, peering over his frames which had slipped down his nose and rested askew. Roman paused before answering.

“Yeah, it was just a dream. It was just really… Really weird. Can I tell you about it in the morning though?”

“Only if you let me embrace my inner Freud and try to analyse it fruitlessly.”

“Okay, deal.” Roman smiled. Logan removed his glasses and asked to turn off the lamp. As they were plunged into darkness, Roman settled back among the sheets and tried to get warm again. He stared at the ceiling, trying not to think about the whiteness and distance of Logan in his dream. Before he had a chance to dwell on it, he heard shuffling and, almost immediately after, felt Logan draping himself over him. He rested his head on his chest and wrapped an arm around him (though Roman couldn’t tell, Logan heard his heart speeding up. It got even faster when, quietly, he whispered that he loved him, and rose his head to give him a kiss on the neck).

At six in the morning, almost precisely as the night staff members should be leaving, Logan awoke to a text after forgetting to put his phone on silent.

_Logan, to be honest with you, Remus has been a bitch all night. Good luck dealing with him today. _It read.

“What kind of imbecile would send a text at this hour?” Roman croaked, rubbing his eyes awake.

“I just love receiving texts that don’t assist me in any way and just make me dread the day to come, but whatever. It’s just the night staff.”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know, I don’t have any of their contacts actually saved. It just better be one of them otherwise someone who doesn’t work there knows about Remus and I don’t think anyone in the world should know him.”

“I sure wish I didn’t.”

“Me too. But we still have another two hours before we have to get up. You can go back to sleep if you want to.”

“What about you?” Roman asked, burying his face in blankets.

“Well, you know I’m a slut for _Queer Eye_. Come and join me whenever you want.”

Halfway through the first episode, Roman sauntered down the stairs, feeling a sense of Déjà Vu. Logan heard him approaching with all the squeaks and creaks throughout the house wherever anyone tried to walk. Still, he jumped when the door opened.

“Sorry, did I scare you?” Roman asked stood frozen in the doorframe.

“Just startled. Never scared. Too powerful.” He gestured for Roman to come over.

“Okay, Frankenstein.” Roman nestled his head in the crook of Logan’s neck.

“Actually, it’s the creature that said that not the man himself.”

“The creature? Don’t you mean the monster?”

“No, the creature was the victim of careless science that was carried out due to unchecked curiosity rather than planned experiment with a hypothesis and only became a monster due to Victor just abandoning him due to the fear of his creation and refusal to see him as anything but monstrous despite him wanting to learn and communicate with human beings and learn about virtue. The real monster is Victor Frankenstein himself.”

“Okay, nerd.”

The drive to work was pleasant – though they always tended to be after easy mornings. The sun was already high in the sky and it wasn’t even mid-morning.

“Did I ever tell you what the text actually said this morning?” Logan asked, tilting his head to look at Roman.

“No, but you implied it was something to do with Remus.”

“It warned me that he might be, and I quote, ‘a bitch’ today.”

“Just what we need.” Roman sighed.

“I don’t even know what to say about him. I think we’ve really glossed over the fact that he stabbed you so how could he even step it up from there?”

“I’m sure he’ll find a way.” Roman laughed as he parked. Logan struggled trying to interpret the laugh. He moved on.

“Are you still interested in seeing if Virgil wants to be our friend?”

“It’ll be quite hard trying to find days where, well, where _any_ of us have days off, let alone all three of us on the same day.” Roman reasoned as they walked the path towards the entry gate.

“I could either swap shifts with the night staff or get some people from a sister prison to come in and do some more hours, or even swap I guess.”

“Is any of that legal? Especially the sister prison stuff if we’re technically not the same branch?”

“I don’t think so but this is the prison system, it breaks laws all the time. At least we’re just trying to make a friend rather than committing war crimes and abusing human rights.” Logan said almost too casually as they strolled through the door.

“Well, there’s the tea.”

“This is a door.”

“Oh, you know what I meant.” Roman giggled as he closed it behind them. Once he turned around, it was immediately obvious that something was, not necessarily wrong, but certainly off. Remus had his head poking through between the bars in his cell, staring menacingly at the two of them. Neither Patton nor Tony could be seen anywhere, though they were presumably in their cells. Logan checked. Although they were both in their cells, they barely seemed alive. Patton sat hunched over on his bed with bags under his eyes, and Tony was lying sprawled over the floor, his chest rising and falling quickly. He stopped himself from going over to Jason’s cell. What once was Jason’s cell.

“Are things alright between you two?” Logan asked, putting his hands together and switching his gaze between Patton and Tony.

“Logan, boss, when I say that Remus has not shut the fuck up all night, just screaming like a damn fox, I am not exaggerating.” Tony said hoarsely, clearly exasperated from the hours prior.

“It’s true, sir.” Patton said meekly. “He wasn’t even saying anything. He was just making noise relentlessly and now I have a headache.”

“Just so you both know,” Roman interjected, “you don’t have to wait until tonight to sleep again. If you’re tired now, you can nap. Technically we’re supposed to keep you to schedule but just don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“I’ll tell people you said it!” Remus screeched. Instantly, the two understood why the other prisoners hadn’t slept well at all. He started jumping around, flinging himself from one corner to the next, somehow holding himself onto the ceiling gripping the bars. Presumably just like last night, he screeched at the top of his lungs for so long that Roman wondered how many lungs he could possibly have. Like a whip, Logan brandished his baton and swung at the cage bars enough to make a clanging sound even louder than Remus.

“I’ve not had to use this thing in years because the last time I did is the reason why we have to keep first aid kits in every corridor and I swear to everyone in this room that you and I are about five seconds away from being the reason we get a government-funded infirmary: shut the fuck up.” He glared icily at Remus, who had somehow managed to shred his clothes and his mattress and also engrave his name into the bricks in the wall. He didn’t break eye contact, but Remus quickly subdued.

“Logan?” He said in a high-pitched voice. “Where did you put Jason?”

“In the mortuary. People will be coming down later today to collect the body.”

“Are you sure it’s still there?” He smiled. Strangely, Logan found that he couldn’t truly answer ‘yes’. Without another word, and before he could hear Roman protest, he disappeared down the corridor towards the mile, and twisted into the mortuary. Sure enough, his body was still there, as was the blindfold.

“What’s wrong with me? Of course he’s still here.” Logan muttered to himself. Walking down along the mile to return to the prisoners, he (quite literally) bumped into Dee. His eyes were narrowed and fiery. His face had become a bloodless white.

“What the fuck _is_ wrong with you, Logan?” He spat. “Remus screams until all our ears bleed and he gets a threat and nothing more, but I get a little too close to the bars and you smile when I get punched. Do you forget who the rapists and murderers are in here?”

“Do you forget who often gets falsely accused of major crimes to be put on death row in order to uphold white supremacy? Certainly not people with our privilege.”

“So you think that just because Tony is black that he didn’t actually kill anyone and was just falsely accused of doing so?”

“I think that it is much more likely than you think. And consider, there are people who look like you who do far worse things and get away with it.”

“You do realize that bad people actually exist, right?” Dee hissed. He tried to barge past him, but Logan was stronger and taller. Someone like Dee was very easy to over-power. He grabbed him by the shoulder and pinned him against the wall.

“Of course bad people exist, but none of them are the ones in those cells. They are people who did bad things. Remember that everything Tony has done has been in self-defence. He’s here for that reason, and he hit you for that reason too. And you’re mad that I haven’t beaten up anyone in there yet? You’re pathetic.” Logan released him. It was less of a ‘release’ and more of a violent ‘get out of my sight’ gesture. Nevertheless, Dee was thrown (rather forcefully) away from Logan, who regained his posture before entering the corridor, which was now pleasantly quiet, with everyone else once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to leave any feedback!


	14. Making Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These chapters are getting harder and harder to describe tbh but essentially Patton gives some spicy exposition and Logan becomes a mood trying to make plans to befriend Virgil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hell yeah I hope you enjoy and please feel free to leave some feedback anything from a keyboard smash to an extensive essay is greatly appreciated! :D

The door slammed behind him as he clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. Logan had to steady his breathing before saying a word, making sure he didn’t say the wrong thing. He barely cared that Patton looked at him, almost disgusted, and that Roman was wide-eyed in shock. He focussed on deep breaths.

“What did Dee say to you?” Patton asked, gripping the bars as hard as Logan was clenching his fist.

“None of your concern.” Logan hissed. He caught himself, adjusting his tone, before continuing more coolly. “Where’s Virgil?”

“I saw him come in before you guys,” Tony sighed, rubbing his eyes and leaning on the far wall, “but I didn’t see where he went. He’s here today, though.”

“Oh, good news!” Logan smiled, finding himself to actually be joyous.

“Oh, and Logan?”

“Yes, Tony?”

“How far away is the day… The day when I have to walk the mile?” Logan quickly felt his shred of joy die.

“I can check for you but it’s not for at least another two weeks. Are you okay?”

“About as okay as a dead man standing can be.” Tony’s posture didn’t change as he said it. Neither did his tone nor his face. He acknowledged his own upcoming murder with the same casual elegance an eagle would acknowledge the death of its prey. Whatever poignancy he had once had had been lost to apathy.

“If I may interrupt?” Roman interrupted.

“You may.” Logan turned. He had his hand raised like a school child waiting to ask a question.

“It’s on August 29th, not for another twenty five days.”

“How did you remember that?” Logan asked in awe. No matter how much Roman downplayed himself, he would always say something so precise, so exact, just enough to astound Logan every time. As a response to Logan’s question, Roman simply dabbed. Patton snickered from within his cell. It was always nice to hear one of them laugh. As if he had timed his entrance just to ruin the mood, the door clicked open, and Dee entered the room with all too much swagger and sheer audacity for literally anyone’s liking.

“Is there a reason you’re all staring at me?” He asked smugly.

“It’s that we can’t believe how UGLY you are.” Tony yelled much like how he used to: with a grin on his face and a jovialness in his voice.

“You’re one to talk considering you haven’t bathed in weeks.” Dee retorted, holding his hand dramatically over his chest in offence. Logan, Roman, and Patton watched the exchange with a collection of smirks.

“Funny how the people who haven’t seen real sunlight or a good shower or fresh air in weeks and months look better than your smug shit-eating grin.” Tony wrapped his arms around the bars and poked his head through the gaps, his long neck giving him the flexibility to turn and look at Dee directly. Logan made himself aware of where his baton was. Roman watched with caution. Patton prepared himself, just in case. Dee glared at Logan, his features twisting into something serpentine. His eyes seemed to turn yellow.

“Are you _hearing_ this? How dare you stand and watch?”

“If you can’t take a tease then you have no right working here. I’ve been taking this for years and you’ve been here months.” Logan argued calmly.

“Yeah, it’s just a tease. It’s just a fucking tease, right? One day you’ll see, and you’ll be sorry.” With that, he stormed away. Rather, he stormed into the supply room, grabbed a broom, mop and bucket, and stormed outside with them all, leaving the door just slightly open behind him.

“Well,” Patton sighed, “at least he got some cleaning stuff so he won’t be around again.”

“Patton, do you mind if I ask you a question?” Roman asked, his eyes wide as if he had suddenly remembered something.

“You just did!” He replied with a giggle.

“Another question?”

“You just did again.”

“Okay,” Roman sighed, but he was smiling and his eyes shone brightly, “can I ask you four questions in total?” Logan rolled his eyes, knowing where this was going.

“You just did.” At this point, Patton laughed heartily with everything he said. It was the first time a prisoner had seemed so sincerely happy in a long time.

“Wait, when?” Roman’s eyebrows furrowed with perplex as he adopted a puzzled look. Then, instantly, he realized what he’d said. “Oh god…”

“Just then!”

“Okay, but seriously?” Roman smiled. From the corner of his eye, he saw Tony smiling too.

“Yes!”

“Okay, so when the two women were here from the other prison, you said you didn’t have a last name.”

“I said that? Why would I say that?”

“Well, Logan and I were discussing it…” He gave a slight gesture to Logan to keep him quiet. “And we both thought it was strange. Do you have any kind of… Something that might affect your memory? Like any damage or disorder or anything?”

“Nothing of _that_ sort.” Patton said. He retreated to the backs of his cell, folding his arms over his body and hanging his head low.

“Anything of another sort?” Roman pushed. Patton looked up, glancing between Roman and Logan.

“If you both come closer I can whisper it. I don’t want to say it too loudly.”

“Why not?” Logan asked, pushing his glasses back up to his face. Patton said nothing, just stared at a spot just past Logan. Neither of them had to look to know that he was scared of what Remus would hear. What he would shout out to other people. What he would say to people not so lenient as Roman, Logan, and Virgil. They both paced forwards with intrigue. Patton leaned down to be at their level.

“The thing I do, the thing that helps make people better… It comes at a cost – at least I’m pretty sure it does – every time I use it, I forget something. It can be anything, and I have no idea what it is I’ve forgotten. I’m not even entirely sure it works this way, but I’m never forgetful until I have to help someone and then something just… Disappears. It can be anything, it’s so indiscriminate, and I have no control. So much of my life I just can’t remember.”

“How many people have you helped?” Logan asked. Surely, a man as young-looking as Patton had only encountered so many people who desperately required him? “And when was the first?”

“Oh, easily hundreds, maybe thousands.” He replied nonchalantly. Logan’s jaw dropped. “But that’s what happens on the front line of the Great War. People need your help.”

“So you’ve been alive…” Roman’s efforts to comprehend what he just heard were practically audible. “You’ve alive since before the nineteen-tens?”

“If you could heal anyone, including yourself, wouldn’t you use that ability to live a little while longer so that you could help more people who need it? Like you guys? You’ve needed me, and where would you be if I’d let myself disappear?”

“Good point…” Roman’s voice trailed off. Logan’s eyes appeared absent-minded. However, they were suddenly brought back to life when one of the doors behind them clicked. Patton flinched and stood up straight and wide-stanced, while Roman and Logan whipped around expecting to encounter Dee glaring at them all and demanding to know what they were up to. Instead, they saw Virgil. He looked at the three huddled together but was too delighted at how happy they all seemed to be to see him to say anything.

“Virgil, good to see you! Are you free Monday evening?” Logan exclaimed. His intonation was accentuated. It almost seemed fake.

“Well, I can be if you give me a good shift. Why?” His voice was gravelly. He sounded like he hadn’t slept in days.

“Roman and I have decided that we want you as a friend.” Roman looked at him, almost aghast, but said nothing. Instead, he smiled, internally wondering why Logan had decided to bring this up now – or even at all.

“A horrible decision on your parts but okay, I guess.”

“Excellent news, I’ll book us all to be free.”

“It’s that easy?” Virgil asked, his eyes squinting and thumbs tracing his palms.

“Anything is that easy when you’re me.” Logan said. “I’ll just book Dee in with a member of the night staff at that time. It’d be nice for them to finally meet him.”


	15. Another Punch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dee simply cannot stop being a dick. It's in his nature. It just so happens that making snide comments is also in Tony's nature, and such traits do not fit well together. This time, they clash a bit too hard, and Logan is facing the consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the most eventful chapter that has happened in a while. Once again, I've written it all in one sitting literally just now so please let me know of any spelling or grammar errors. I hope you all enjoy!  
Also I think one of the earlier chapters was called 'The Punch' and I didn't know how else to title this chapter lmao.

Logan was sat in his office, content. The window was open but there was certainly no fresh air or cool breeze coming in; every place was just as hot and humid as the next and prison guard uniform did not aid the stuffiness that everyone felt (but particularly Logan, whose office hadn’t yet received the investment of functioning ventilation). All he could do was stay as hydrated as possible. He re-read Remus’s court transcript, and nothing in it surprised him: insults, inappropriate jokes, and refusal to comply all seemed rather pertinent to him. Something that he noticed in the dialogue struck him as peculiar – though he had certainly observed how Remus took every opportunity to be macabre or provocative, the transcript made him appear to be truly witty at times. If it were from anybody else, Logan might have found himself admiring the sass.

“So the prosecutor said ‘let’s start from the top’.” He read aloud. The next line, Remus’s response, made him smile. “After not even a second of pause, he says ‘we might need to bring my husband in to start there’. The impertinence.”

“What’s impertinent?” Roman asked, swinging the door open and leaning on the handle as he lunged into a split, not even blinking as he held eye contact with Logan.

“The way that you come into my office while I’m working.”

“I’m your husband so I’m allowed.” Roman stood up and draped himself over Logan’s shoulders, peering over him to read the transcript. “Is it weird to you too that he said he has a husband?”

“We have to accept that some gay people are bad.” Logan sighed. While it was true, he felt a tug of shame in the pit of his stomach; every bad gay person just seemed like a justification for the pain Logan and Roman had been given.

“No, just that he’s married – or said he is. He doesn’t seem like the type to commit to someone like that.” He pulled himself off Logan only to crouch next to him. He noticed his eyes remain fixed to the word ‘husband’.

“We can’t disconnect prisoners from the real world. We can’t call them monsters. If we try to deny their humanity, we miss the monsters in our friends and in ourselves.” He muttered. Then, just a second later: “Do you smell watermelon? But like, really artificial watermelon?”

“Yeah it’s my lip gloss.”

“It smells great, can I try it?”

“Yeah sure.” Before Logan could really think, Roman grabbed his face and pulled him down to his level. He kissed him for several seconds. Logan still wasn’t used to it; his face flushed and he became flustered very quickly. Roman could feel him smiling against his lips. When they separated, he stood up again and winked.

“No homo.” He giggled. He went to leave but caught himself at the door. “I actually came to warn you that Dee just found out your shift arrangements and he isn’t happy. I can also here him coming down from the mile so if you don’t mind…” And he ran. Logan had never seen anyone run so quickly. Where exactly he went was a question that only consumed his mind for moments before Dee slammed open the door between the prisoners and the mile so loudly that Logan could hear his rage from behind his desk.

“Logan you son of a _bitch_!” He bellowed. The sound of his footsteps marching towards Logan’s open door was a one-man stampede.

“I often forget you’re only five foot three with all the noise that you make.” Tony snickered. Dee’s footsteps stopped.

“And you’re one to talk about noise?”

“It must kill you inside that someone like _me_ is calling _you_ out for being loud.” Logan leapt up and out his office before Dee could try to strike, and of course Logan knew he would: he slid out of his door to see Dee with his arm already raised and baton in hand. With the noise Logan had made, Dee’s attention had turned. His head whipped to be in Logan’s direction. His grip tightened. He made a leap and went to strike Logan at full force. He quickly fell to the ground in pain when Logan performed the swiftest uppercut to his jaw that any of them had ever seen (even Remus seemed to flinch). As soon as his fist made contact with Dee, the corridor was filled with a loud crack, almost like a whip, then a silence. His body sprawled out over the floor with barely a movement. Two things were immediately obvious: his mandible was sticking out making him look like an over-stuffed hamster, and a small pool of blood oozing from his head where he’d hit the floor. A third obvious thing was all the eyes on him: Tony looked shocked; Remus seemed impressed; Patton appeared horrified. He heard another door open from behind him but he couldn’t turn around. He could feel the eyes, and that was enough. He heard another set of footsteps, much lighter, sprint past him. He couldn’t see who it was but knew it could either be Roman or Virgil. He felt his knees collapse. He barely felt himself hit the floor. He just stared, fixated on what he had done. His hand hurt, it burned, it felt numb, all at once, but he couldn’t focus on that.

“Please, bring him to me.” A voice said. It was soft and gentle but it wasn’t Roman’s.

“No.” Logan managed to mutter, somehow. He focussed on breathing, and focused on the excruciating agony in his hand, to bring himself back to life.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” Roman asked harshly, “I hate him as much as anyone but he’ll _die_!”

“So did Jason.” Logan’s words slurred. He heard it, but he couldn’t stop it. Nothing was clear.

“Logan, please, let me help him!” Another door slammed open.

“What happened here?”

“Virgil, don’t tell Logan that I’m ignoring what he just said. Cover his eyes for me so he can’t see.” Nothing happened. “Don’t just take off his glasses he only wears them for the look he can see just fine without them!” Only then did Logan’s world get plunged into darkness.

Realistically, only a minute of time should have passed; it had never taken long for Patton to work his magic, whatever it was, but when Logan was permitted to see again, almost half an hour had passed on the clock. Dee was nowhere to be seen, only Roman and Virgil crouched by his side. His whole hand still hurt and he couldn’t move it without tears welling in his eyes from all the pain.

“What the fuck just happened?” He asked. He barely recognized the sound of his own voice: he was hoarse and croaky as if he hadn’t had a drink in a week. His vision was clear, and so was his head.

“I’ll let Roman explain. He saw all of it happen.” Virgil said tentatively, shuffling back to give Roman more of a stage.

“I really didn’t, actually. I knew Dee was coming and that he was mad so I left you to it since you’re usually quite cool-tempered. Next thing I hear is something like a gunshot and I think something’s happened and I just run in to see you stood over Dee and he looks like he’s been shot and then you collapsed and tried to stop us saving Dee’s life. He isn’t happy with you still, but I don’t think he remembers the punch – you hit him _that_ hard – but I told him he had a fall and to go home so he can’t bother you and you can’t bother him.”

“Oh, I see.” Logan mumbled.

“What?” Virgil tried to egg him on, and Logan could see the confusion on both of their faces.

“Neither of you saw how he pulled a baton on Tony because he basically called him short and then was about to hit me with it. That’s why I punched him.”

“No,” Roman said, “we didn’t.”

“I want you two to go home. I’ll have to file some paperwork regarding whatever accident we’re going to say that Dee had. If I can get some sister companies to bug the insurance enough, he might not be such a dick if he gets a payment.”

“Oh nice, I’ve been waiting for an early finish for ages. Thanks Logan!” Virgil had never absconded from any room so quickly. It was just Roman and Logan.

“I have to say I was quite shocked that you were really willing to let Dee die by your hands. Almost angry, actually.”

“Me too. I swear, I must have just been in shock or something. I had no idea what was going on and –”

“I believe you. You don’t need to try to justify any further.” Roman said. His voice was quiet, soft, and gentle. He took Logan’s hands and held them there. Logan looked at Roman again. As always, he was drawn to his eyes: a beautiful, earthy brown lined with the most beautiful lashes he’d ever seen.

“Your mascara looks great today.” Logan said, unsure how else to tell Roman that he loved him.

“Thanks I applied it just before coming to warn you about Dee.”

“Of course you did,” Logan smiled, “but seriously, you should go home. I might be another hour before I’m done.”

“How will you get home if I drive?”

“Public transport that exists for the low low price of free.”

“Do you mean you’ll walk?”

“Probably.”

“Okay, darling, I love you.”

“I love you too, now drive safely. Both hands on the wheel!”

Logan had been optimistic to suggest that he’d only be an extra hour home after Roman. Indeed, doing the paperwork necessary to report an accident took about that time but, since he’d sent all his staff members home, he had to do a lot of extra cleaning and checking that the ventilation for the corridor with the prisoners was smooth and general maintenance work that he hadn’t done for a while. He was nearly two and a half hours later than Roman. He’d sent several texts apologizing and with constant updates only to receive no reply in return. Given the prior events of the day, Logan presumed to worst: on his way home, he stopped by a florist and bought a bouquet of carnations. Simple, but classic, and he knew Roman would appreciate it.

Walking home took just less than an hour overall. During the walk, Logan had time to think about how exactly to apologise for what he’d done and a lot of time to check his phone for replies, and a lot more time to stress over exactly what Roman would say. Would he be home? Would he accept the apology? Would he kick Logan out immediately and break up with him for showing his ‘true colours’, whatever that meant? Logan decided to find out the hard way. His house was locked, but the car was out at the front. He turned the key. He took care to close the door gently behind him. He didn’t see his stuff packed up or thrown away, which was a good sign. However, he also didn’t see Roman. He heard heavy footsteps approaching from the kitchen. All of a sudden, everything went black. The last thing he saw was smudges of makeup over a black fabric. He struggled, only to be greeted with a hard knock against his temple, and tape over his mouth. Soon enough, he stopped feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Any feedback is greatly appreciated!


	16. Who Would Do This?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time, Logan came home to a seemingly empty house before being beaten and blinded. Now, he's being taken somewhere. He has to figure out where, and who is doing this, before he loses his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy quarantine! Since I'm spending a lot more time at home and have had more time to write, and because a lot of people might be bored out of their minds much like me, I decided to post this chapter a few days early. I hope you enjoy!

Logan could only hear struggle. He was being dragged by his arms but his legs were free to flail and kick. He tried to dig his heels into the floor to provide tension and make him less easy to move, but whoever was dragging him was strong – and they didn’t say a word. He tried to pull his arms away but the grip around them was unforgiving. He tried to shout but the tape stopped any sound being too loud. He shook his head violently to try to remove the fabric covering his eyes, but nothing he did stopped the dragging. He tried to keep track of where he might be going, but he soon lost himself.

He eventually got thrown downwards – into what exactly it was he couldn’t be sure. He presumed it was the basement that neither he nor Roman had entered in at least a year. That’s when the thought struck him: Roman. The man he loved most dearly. He dreaded to think exactly what might have happened to him, or worse: what role he might have in this. Being thrown so carelessly down, he waited for just a few moments before ripping off what had been blinding him. He tore away the tape as well. His skin felt burnt. He felt something bleeding. The smell was dusty and damp and he couldn’t see anything. Somehow, he still heard struggling: heavy breathing, distressed shuffling, and something on the verge of crying. Logan brushed this off as imaginary. Tentatively, he crept towards where he thought the light switch would be with his hands reaching out in front of him. As he stepped, a floorboard creaked, and his blood ran cold. He felt paralysed. Even the other sounds of struggling stopped. He waited. His heart pounded and he held his breath. Every second, he tried to move but he couldn’t. A click, albeit inaudible against any other noise, cracked like a whip in the air. He started counting slowly. After over two hundred seconds, he found himself able to move. He carried on with even more care. He finally came to the wall. Frantically, he felt for anything that could be a switch. The panic and desperation started to overwhelm him. His short and shallow breaths seemed to echo through the room as he finally felt something. He flipped the switch, and there was light at last. Dull, flickering, and just generally eerie though it was, Logan couldn’t be more grateful. He turned and what he saw confirmed his suspicion: this was indeed his basement, but not like he’d ever seen it.

Surprising to nobody, the first thing that Logan noticed was the mess: miscellaneous cans and bottles and tools had been strewn over the floor carelessly and bags of trash were lying around as if they belonged there. Only when Logan had gotten over his revulsion at the state of this did he realize the blood on the walls. Right below the blood stain rested a still figure lying limp against the wall. He looked closer, squinting his eyes to try to make out what it was. When figuring out exactly what he was looking at, he battled whether he wanted to make noise and run to him, or be quiet and risk not reaching him in time. As far as Logan could tell, Roman was still breathing. He tiptoed as fast as he feasibly could before crouching by Roman’s side. His hands trembled and his lips quivered. He was still warm and still breathing. Logan peered up to the wall above him. Indeed, there were still red stains above Roman. He stood up and leant over him, his face now centimetres from the stains. The smell was far too chemically to be blood. He examined Roman’s body further, and there was no wound. Instead, just another chemically smell. After a few seconds, Logan tasted a sweetness. Though it was only faint, he knew exactly what had happened. He fought to stay awake.

“Who’s there?” Roman mumbled. Logan backed away, not wanting to frighten him. If Roman started shouting, he dreaded to think what would happen.

“It’s Logan, don’t worry, it’s just me.”

“Are we in our basement?” Roman asked looking around as if he barely recognised it.

“Yeah, and there’s someone upstairs so please don’t be too loud.”

“What, so we’re supposed to just _stay_ here?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this after years of depression but I don’t want to fucking die, least of all at the hands of someone else!” Although the volume in their voices was stifled and oppressed into a whisper, the intentions and harshness in their tone were loud and clear.

“Logan, we’re in the basement. There is probably a chainsaw around here somewhere.”

“Since when have we ever had a chainsaw?”

“Okay yeah you have a point but surely we have a _regular_ saw?”

“Good idea Roman! I’m sure that such a close-distance barely-does-shit-for-stabbing tool will come in handy when fighting someone who has chloroform, nitrous oxide, some kind of metal pole or block, and god knows what else!”

“How do you even know they have all that?” Roman asked, now seeming to be completely diffused from all the fear and rage.

“I was hit with the pole and they used the nitrous oxide to weaken you evidenced by the sweet taste when I breathed near you and then chloroform to actually knock you out evidenced by the chemically smell and also because it’s the most common method of knocking people out but whoever did this probably knows it takes several minutes rather than a few seconds which is why the nitrous oxide would have been useful. All that aside,” Logan sighed deeply, trying to gather himself, “Do you feel okay?”

“Given the circumstances? Not bad… But how hard did they hit you?”

“Enough to make me bleed. It’s fine.” Roman reached up to Logan’s temple, stroking his cheek. He tilted his head and saw the blood from the strike. It wasn’t as bad as he thought (he’d expected organs spilling out and visible bones but it just looked like some blood) but he found himself amazed at how Logan was talking and moving and thinking like normal. He showed no signs of a concussion.

“What kind of sick bastard would do that to you?” Roman hissed. Logan shot him a glare before holding a finger up to his lips.

“Most of them; I’m very annoying.” He replied in a hushed tone. “A more pertinent question is who would do this to _us_?”

“Someone who’s angry, and uncontrollable.”

“Someone with a power complex.” They looked at each other.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Roman asked.

“Maybe?”

“It’s Dee.” They said in unison. That very moment, they heard another creak from upstairs. Its sound was shallow and quiet, as if it were accidental and hesitant. Then another one of the same nature, but slightly louder and more echoic. Then another just a second later. Logan couldn’t think, he just scurried to the wall opposite Roman and gestured desperately for him to be quiet. When the creaks got so loud that they seemed to occur right above them, he had a change of heart: he crouched by the side of the staircase, reached for a sledgehammer that he’d forgotten they had, and turned the light off. So soon after he did so, the door opened and another beam of light shone through the room. It was so soon that Logan couldn’t be entirely sure if he’d done it in time.

“Are you awake?” Said Dee’s voice. He was teasing. Taunting. Logan knew he was revelling in this. “I know I heard you lovebirds talking to each other. Why not talk to me?” Dee giggled. Logan prayed that Roman would keep quiet and still. Dee sauntered down the steps. Logan gripped the handle harder, and he swung.

He got sent back to the prison halls: the dread and tension filled his chest with the knowledge he’d done something but not knowing what and knowing that he could never come back from this; a part of his body ached and burned and pained like nothing he’d ever felt before; a voice that wasn’t his cracked the whole room. His mind was spinning but he couldn’t stop. He released his hands and dropped whatever he was holding. He was tackled to the ground but couldn’t find it in himself to resist. Whatever was touching his face felt warm and familiar.

“Logan, you’ve done enough.” Roman said. Monotone and firm.

“I was scared.”

“I know, it’s okay. Can you stand?”

“Please don’t touch me.” Logan whispered, choking back tears. Roman pulled himself away, flipping his stare between Logan and Dee, who lay unconscious on the basement floor. While Roman turned away to approach Dee (presumably to check his breathing), Logan took the opportunity to reach towards the pain in his chest. He felt wetness, stickiness, and a sharpness like nothing he could describe. He fingered around some more despite battling for consciousness, using every free second he could while Roman looked away. He pulled his hand away but the pain didn’t stop – nor even ease. Holding his hand into the light from upstairs, he saw himself coated in his own blood. The last thing he saw was Roman glancing his way, before jumping up and bounding towards him. What Roman did once he reached him, Logan didn’t stay awake long enough to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave any feedback or (constructive!) criticism -- should I start posting chapters weekly again since I have all the time? Please let me know; I am monumentally bored.


	17. Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan is in hospital, desperate for Roman, for his friend, and to go home. Roman notices, however, that home is no longer what it used to be for Logan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let us all say amen to the person last week who encouraged me to start posting weekly again. They're the reason I got to writing this chapter and the reason everyone else gets it today instead of next week. Also amen to my boyfriend who supported me by encouraging me not to over-work myself with it. I hope you enjoy! :D

Bright lights that burned and blurred and muffled sounds that all swirled in one. Logan felt a tingling sensation all throughout his body, but particularly his arms and chest. He blinked heavily, all the lights disappearing for entire seconds before he could see them again. Almost paralysed, he started by wiggling his fingers and just trying to make himself twitch. All he could feel, besides the tingling, was a heavy weight on his legs. His surroundings became clearer and the sounds more and more distinct as he was able to work his way up to full focus. He glanced down to see a hospital gown. Further inspection, and he saw his Roman resting on his lap, sleeping. He looked around more, twisting and turning just enough to see without disturbing Roman. Observing his monitor, he saw that he was doing just fine, which was a relief. He leant forward and reached towards Roman. His hair was soft and thick, his curls trapping Logan’s fingers as he wound his hair around. Roman’s sleeping face was towards Logan, who trailed his hands down his cheek and stayed there, cupping his face. He rubbed his thumb along his skin. Roman blinked his eyes open and smiled. He took Logan’s hand in his own and clasped it tight. He sat up and yawned.

“You’ve looked better.” Roman teased with a smirk.

“I’ve felt better too.”

“Aw man, we use Patton to get rid of your depression just for you to turn around and say you’ve felt _better_?” Roman released Logan’s hand and flipped his hair back dramatically. “I mean, what was even the _point_ of it all?” Logan giggled. He giggled in a way that he hadn’t in a long time – flustered, embarrassed, shy? He hadn’t giggled like that since he and Roman first got together.

“God, I know. My audacity.” Logan smiled.

“But on a serious note…” Roman’s voice mellowed. “Do you feel okay?”

“I suppose. What happened though? Why am I here?”

“Oh, well… Right as you smashed Dee’s head with whatever the thing was, he stabbed you.” Logan’s heart started racing. The beeping next to him got faster.

“Is Dee alive?”

“He’s alive, they want to do a brain scan and an X-ray though. See what’s happened. They’re pretty certain he’s got a fractured skull but they’ve put him in an induced coma – sit your ass down you can’t go see him or anyone just stay here.”

“Tell him I’ll pay his hospital bills if he doesn’t take us to court.” Logan pleaded. Roman had to hold him back to stop him getting up.

“Isn’t bribery like that illegal?”

“Definitely, but if he doesn’t take us to court then they’ll never know.”

“He isn’t even awake yet!” Roman protested. “Just sit back down!”

“Okay, yeah, you’re right.”

“Just _breathe_.” They held still and silent for a few seconds. After a few more, the beeping slowed down a bit. It soon returned to normal. “Better?” Roman asked, loosening his grip on Logan’s shoulders.

“Much better. Thank you.”

“You’re due to come home tomorrow, it’s already four in the afternoon. You’ll be okay.” Roman said. He meant well, and his words did indeed come as a comfort, but Logan could only think of one thing.

“How long have I been here?”

“You got here yesterday. Before you ask, I’m fine. I wasn’t injured at all.”

“Roman, we’re meant to be seeing Virgil today. He’s probably wondering what’s happened to us. Can you tell him that we haven’t just abandoned him and that we’re still interested in being his friend? I can’t imagine how he’d feel if he just didn’t know where we went.”

“Honey, Virgil has just gone to get a coffee and a snack from two floors down. I’m surprised he isn’t back already, actually, but he definitely knows you’re here, don’t worry.” Roman smiled. As always, Logan looked at that smile and found comfort. They heard quiet and tentative footsteps approaching. Like magic, Virgil appeared holding a disposable cup of coffee in one hand and a packet of sour gummies in the other. Seeing Logan awake, his whole face lit up and his eyes sparkled like shattered glass.

“You’re awake! Do you feel okay?” He asked with a shake in his voice.

“Quite well!” Logan replied. “I must admit that this isn’t quite the gathering I had planned when I said we wanted to hang out and become friends, but alas.”

“Well, there’s not much more platonically intimate than literally being at hospital to check on your friend after he almost murdered a bitch.” He and Roman laughed. Logan sighed with uncertainty, feeling their eyes on him.

“I didn’t mean to. I swear I didn’t want to hurt him.”

“Logan, buddy, nobody here thinks you meant it.” Virgil said firmly.

“Anyone else would have probably done so much worse.” Roman took Logan’s hand again.

“So,” Virgil coughed, “you got stabbed in the chest?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“After you smashed Dee’s head with a sledgehammer?”

“What are you, a cop?” Logan laughed. Then he remembered what the three of them did for a living.

“I just think that’s pretty badass of you.”

“I hurt him twice in one day. I think it’s cruel.” Logan muttered angrily. The monitor by his side started beeping faster again.

“Both times were self-defence, Lo. I mean, the first time he’d have hit you with a baton and the second time he literally kidnapped both of us.”

“Don’t blame yourself. He chose to try to hurt you.” Despite their kind and comforting words, frustration rose within Logan. As much as he tried to hide it, there’s only so much hiding that can be done with a loud machine that registers heart rate.

That night at the hospital was the loneliest of Logan’s life. Roman had stayed with him long after Virgil had left, but he still had to go home. Nurses rarely checked on him – only to make sure he was alive and that he had a full water bottle by his bedside. He heard moans and groans from other patients all night. It was so dark he could never tell if his eyes were open or closed. By the time the morning came, Logan wasn’t sure how much he had slept (or if he even had), but he still spent a few moments wondering why Roman wasn’t in bed with him before he remembered where he was. He sighed, a heavy loneliness anchoring him to the hospital bed. Another nurse came and went. As the minutes dragged by, he noticed two nurses gathered around Dee’s bed. Not wanting to be surreptitious, he slowly sat up and pretended to reach for his glasses. He overheard their conversation.

“His condition is stabilising, but we should still see about what scans we can do to make sure.”

“Would it be a CT or an MRI?” Asked someone who looked and sounded young enough to be a student. Logan wasn’t sure if he loved or hated that Dee might be being taken care of by a student.

“We’ll start with a CT when he wakes up – which should be later today if all goes well, which it seems to be.” Despite knowing that it was his fault that Dee was in hospital in the first place, hearing that he seemed to be doing okay brought relief to his mind unlike anything else.

Logan’s sense of time deteriorated quickly but he knew that, as soon as visiting hours had arrived, Roman had marched to reception and flew up the stairs to see him.

“Look what I brought!” Roman whispered excitedly, his eyes peering all over to make sure he was being as secretive as possible. From his backpack, he pulled out a plastic zip lock bag containing what looked like a sad mush of pancake. “And I used sunflower oil, not olive oil!”

“Thank you so much! You have no idea how awful hospital food is, you’ve single-handedly saved my life.” Roman have Logan the first bag and pulled out a second for himself. They ate quietly and quickly, constantly looking out for any hospital staff who might catch them. The entire time, Logan couldn’t stop smiling, gazing at Roman with the same wonder, love, and adoration that he would give to the moon.

“You were right to say that they’re better with sunflower oil.” Roman said, stuffing the emptied bags back into his backpack.

“Of course I was right; I’m always right.”

“Yeah, sure. Now, when do we get to go home?”

Only a few hours later, after a last check-up, and they were home. Roman parked the car. Logan tried to forget what happened last time he opened the doors to his home.

“Why didn’t you take us to Patton?” Logan asked once they were inside. He made sure to lock the door behind them. Every creak startled him.

“I panicked and forgot, I guess. I didn’t think to drive you and Dee all the way back there…” He paused and stared at Logan. There was life behind his eyes that he hadn’t seen in years, but it was skittish and all too aware. Like a deer in headlights. “Are you mad that I didn’t?”

“No,” Logan replied too quickly, “I probably would have done the same thing. Thank you for doing what you did.”

“What would I have done?” Roman laughed with a straight face, “Let you die?” Logan didn’t laugh. He didn’t respond at all. Every noise, no matter where it came from, he just seemed to panic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! Feel free to leave any feedback or constructive criticism, I'd really appreciate it! :D


	18. A Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the aftermath of Logan and Roman's kidnapping: the two of them are at home, processing and dealing with what happened and trying to work around each other's needs, while Virgil is still at work with Patton, Remus, and Tony, all of whom have their own thoughts on the event.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is called A Mess because it reflects the characters' mental states, my mental state, and also the structure of the chapter itself (and totally not because I told my boyfriend that everything is a mess and he suggested that that's what I call the chapter but here we are...) I hope you enjoy!

Roman watched Logan all day. He watched him pale whenever he heard a noise reminiscent of a footstep and raise his hands as fists at fast movements.

“It’s just me.” He’d have to say whenever he was walking around anywhere near him. Logan was stuttering so badly that no coherent utterance came out of his mouth for the rest of the day. When Roman cooked, he didn’t eat. He drank nothing but water. His hands shook. Logan got to a point where he wouldn’t even attempt to say anything anymore.

Roman found him, hours later, curled up in the corner of their bed wrapped among blankets with earbuds in watching what looked like a bootleg of _Wicked_. He wasn’t so much watching it as he was staring blankly at the screen and merely seeing it.

“Logan, it’s Roman.” He said. Logan redirected his vacant gaze. He looked like he struggled.

“I’m sorry for not coming home with you.” He said. His voice sounded clogged.

“It’s alright, you couldn’t have –”

“Dee was angry at _me_. He wanted to hurt _me_.”

“Logan,” Roman stepped towards the bed, reaching his hand out tentatively.

“You didn’t need to get wrapped up in any of it. It should have been me and me alone.”

“Lo, listen,”

“I’m _sorry_.” He cried. He buried his head under the blanket and wrapped himself in it tightly. Roman heard muffled sobs from within it.

“You owe nobody an apology for anything that happened.” He placed his hand where he thought would be the top of Logan’s head. Sensing him flinch and recoil broke Roman’s heart. He moved his hand away and sat at the farthest corner from him.

“You didn’t need to get involved.”

“That was out of your control. And you know what? If I can forgive you, then you can also forgive you.”

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“You don’t deserve to hate yourself for something that Dee did.” Roman looked around frantically, searching for something of any significance to Logan. His eyes could only focus on Logan curled in the corner, his breathing turning short and sharp. His focus trailed down the wire connecting his earbuds to the computer, which was still playing.

“Hear me out…” Logan started before promptly being interrupted.

“Can I please have a character analysis of Elphaba and Glinda?” Asked Roman. As if nothing had happened, Logan sprung up from the blankets, wiped his glasses clean, and started talking in the same matter-of-fact tone that Roman fell in love with years ago.

Even an hour after the sun set, Logan was still talking and Roman was still listening. When Roman went downstairs for something to drink, Logan followed without a single word of divergence from his analysis (which had included four separate tangents and a discussion of an entirely different character). Roman only managed to get him to pause to get him to eat an apple just to give him something, but he didn’t mind listening and putting in his own words every once in a while. Every time Roman offered his own thoughts, Logan became more and more enthusiastic and his eyes lit up again and again. Truly, it was as if nothing had ever happened to warrant any upset. Roman was able to pry away Logan’s thoughts from his head just long enough to make sure he ate and drank. It wasn’t until almost midnight that he ran out of remarks. When the two settled into bed, Logan rested his head on Roman’s shoulder and his hand on his chest. Their legs tangled together. As Logan slept, Roman lay awake and staring at the ceiling. He clung to Logan, who was still muttering about the musical between breaths, and tried not to recall the events of the past days. Instead, he daydreamed about sweet nothingness until he got to actually dream about it.

For Logan, the night was short: he slept soundly and steadily without a bad dream to speak of. However, Roman felt every second of the night drag by. Each minute clung to existence before the other one would slowly meander through, making each minute seem like five. Even as he was drifting off into a sleep he never fell into, time stopped for everything but him. For Roman, the night seemed endless. By the time morning came, he could barely move for soreness; maintaining a stiff position for so many hours to keep Logan from sliding off him had certainly taken its toll even after mere hours. When beams of sunlight slipped through the uncovered window, bathing the two in golden light, Roman was reminded of the good left in the world. When Logan squirmed to pull himself closer to Roman and bury his head in the crook of his neck, Roman was also reminded of all the little pockets of joy within the mundane.

“Is it morning?” Logan mumbled minutes after.

“It’s actually late afternoon, you slept for nearly twenty hours, and now we’ve missed a whole work day.” Roman replied, curling Logan’s hair between his fingers.

“Sucks to be them I guess.”

“That was a joke but we actually don’t need to be at work until next week – while you were in hospital, I filed for sick leave for both of us. Workers from the sister prison and night staff are taking over our shifts.”

“Okay but is it morning?”

“Yes, Logan, it’s morning.”

“Great, so we get to stay here?” Logan asked, lifting his head and raising himself to be right above Roman. Roman leant up to meet him, kissed him softly, and pressed his forehead against his.

“As long as you want.” Roman smiled. As if being pulled by a string, Logan leapt away from the bed.

“Well, I’m hungry and I’m sure you are too and I don’t think we’ve used the waffle maker in over a year. Let’s go!” There were no disputes: Roman bound out of the bedroom with matching enthusiasm and a spark of life he hadn’t felt in years.

Virgil could manage the work expected of him when Roman was around, even if Logan were absent, but to have them both missing for several days became arduous. One thing he found solace in was the absence of Dee. Although he felt awful given the circumstances of his absence, not having to worry about him storming through the halls and corridors, not having to be treading on eggshells whenever he was around in case he exploded in another fit of rage, and being able to be a bit more friendly towards the prisoners without his judgement brought endless relief to Virgil.

“Do they know what’s wrong with him?” Asked Tony once Virgil had finished the story for the third time.

“I don’t know; I left before they did the scans. Even if I hadn’t, I doubt anyone would tell me. I was there to see Logan.” Virgil replied. He felt three pairs of eyes on him.

“Is he _dead_?” Asked Remus in an exaggerated tone of despair.

“Not last time I checked.”

“Oh thank goodness!” Patton slid down the wall of his cell and sat, silent for a moment, before speaking again. “Why didn’t Roman bring them both to me?”

“Yeah actually before we go any further…” Virgil started. He pondered for a moment as to how to continue. “I want to address that. What the hell did you do when Logan nearly killed Dee – the first time – because nobody has explained that to me and it’s just –”

“Don’t worry about it.” Tony said nonchalantly.

“Just hope he never has to use it on you!” Remus laughed. By now, Virgil had grown accustomed to his macabre and unsettling comments. He looked over at Patton, who flashed a soft smile before turning his head away shyly. Virgil struggled to believe that someone as demure as him could do anything to warrant being here. Indeed, his stature gave him might and, if he tried, he could probably do some serious damage, but would he want to? Patton really seemed to be the opposite of Dee in that regard.

Rules got broken all the time when dealing with criminals. In Montfort prison, breaking the rules was an act of trust: the staff (usually Logan) would trust the prisoners not to tell anyone and to not kill each other, and the prisoners trusted the staff in everything. All of them knew how much better they were under Logan’s care, even though he had a reputation for being strict and harsh. Breaking the rules, showing mutual trust, meant leaving the corridor vacant. While Virgil was switching between cleaning and paperwork, the prisoners had a chance to talk.

“Tony!” Remus called, poking his head out between the bars. His eyes were bulging and his hair standing on end. “Tony!”

“What do you want?” Tony asked through gritted teeth.

“How much longer do you have left?”

“I don’t know, ask Logan. Or Dee, that bitch probably knows.” Tony scoffed. A silence could barely settle before Remus was at it again.

“Hey, Patton!”

“I don’t know, I can’t remember.” Patton sighed. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Tony staring. He wasn’t glaring, but the pity in his eyes was worse than anger.

“Did the magic healing thing make you forget that, too?” He asked.

“It makes me forget whatever it wants. It costs so much of my life to keep others safe. And this place? It’s all the same stuff over and over again. How am I supposed to give myself new things to forget so I can just keep helping people?” Patton felt himself going red. He punched the wall as hard as he could. He left barely more than a dent. His hand, however, was in agony. He sighed in a bottled frustration. Tony and Remus looked on while a beautiful golden glow filled the room, wondering if Patton will even remember his anger afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, feel free to leave any feedback, I'd really appreciate it!


	19. The Night Staff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan and Roman are still working their minds through what happened to them. Dee barely even crosses their mind until they receive a brief text that almost divides them. Meanwhile, Virgil meets the night staff and, although they're not initially as frightening as he thought, they even seem friendly, he must quickly learn that first impressions don't always last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have nothing left to say about this chapter except it's a bit longer than others and tbh I really like it. I hope you enjoy it just as much!

After just a day, Logan seemed to return to himself. He had become a version of himself from years ago: he frantically went around the house looking for things to clean and organise; he scoured the internet and filled notebooks with endless notes of things he found interesting; he inhaled books as if they were life support. Still, any creak or footstep made his blood run cold and he’d either freeze where he stood or snap his whole body to face the exact direction of the noise. Only creaks and footsteps.

“Is there a therapist for, like, making you not so scared of noise all the time?” Roman asked after noticing such a phenomenon.

“The therapy in question is called systematic desensitisation and it involves gradual exposure to the phobic stimulus relying on the concept of reciprocal inhibition: that humans cannot feel anxious and relaxed at the same time.” Logan replied robotically. It was as if he were reading from a textbook. “An alternative is flooding therapy which involves direct exposure and discourages avoidance behaviours and relies on the behaviourist idea of extinction: eventually we see that there is nothing to be so afraid of so the association between the stimulus and the trauma is replaced.”

“Logan, stop it.” Roman interrupted. He glanced at his hands. He was holding them up in front of him, motioning for Logan to be quiet. Logan noticed this. His eyes lingered on Roman expectedly and just for a little too long. He raised his eyebrows, egging him on. “You don’t need to pretend that you don’t feel anything, that you have moved on just like that, that you’re not scared. You can’t act like you’re over it already by just filling your head with all these facts and theories and ignoring your emotions. I can see it. You can try to ignore how you feel all you want, but you can’t hide it.” Roman’s bottom lip was quivering. Logan, hearing how hard he was trying to not let his voice crack, wouldn’t argue. He wouldn’t defend himself.

“And what does that mean for you?” He asked as calmly as he could manage.

“It means we’re going to work through this. Together.”

“I don’t want you putting yourself aside for me. I don’t want you to think that ‘together’ means we just take turns ignoring ourselves to focus on each other. Together means we need to be constructive and critical, not just supportive. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you.” Roman said. He balled his hand into a fist, save for one finger. He approached Logan tentatively and watched him do the same, albeit with confusion. “Pinky promise.”

“Really?” Logan laughed mockingly. Seeing Roman keep a straight face and stern eyes, he linked his own finger with his. “Pinky promise.”

Logan and Roman spent the rest of the day occupying space and killing their time together. Though they weren’t necessarily Together, they were together. When Logan needed an opinion, Roman was there. When Roman needed reassurance, Logan was there. Having each other around, even if they were barely paying each other any heed, was the quietly romantic life that they had always striven for. Still, nothing they did would extinguish Logan’s response at any sound that bore any semblance to a footstep. Roman saw how he flinched and how bad he was at hiding it. He felt a heavy pit in his stomach eating at him every time. He felt his phone in his hands, truly feeling all the weight it held, feeling all the words he should have typed. He rubbed his thumb along the screen, sending himself through apps and links and highlighting texts and sending his phone into a frenzy. His screen was still sensitive. As quickly as he could, he opened up notes and typed out a message. All variants of the same thing.

_Don’t come home, it isn’t safe_ took four seconds.

_Someone else is home and they’re dangerous _took six seconds

_Stay away from home, remember I love you_ took three seconds. Three seconds that should have saved Logan so much trouble while still reminding him of what was most important. His phone felt heavy in his weary hands, when he really focussed on it. Yet, it was a weight that seemed so shallow when he looked at Logan and saw him flinch, and wallowed in an internal pool of penitent thought.

“I just got a text from Dee’s phone.” Logan said, hours later.

“Not Dee himself? What does it say?” Asked Roman, rolling over in bed to see. They weren’t sleeping yet, but the bed was a soft place to lie after an emotionally laborious day.

“It says that there’s minor damage to his right temporal lobe but he’ll survive.”

“What does damage to his right temporal lobe mean?”

“That’s the bitch that controls auditory information. I don’t think that means he’ll be deaf but he’ll probably have some kind of audio processing difficulties in his right ear. That means we have to start being patient with him.”

“_We_ need to be _patient_ with _him_?” Roman scoffed as if he had taken personal offence to the notion. “After everything he’s done to _us_?”

“Whatever happens as a result of this literal head trauma is not his fault. Remember, I’m the one who hit him. There’s no doubt in the world that Dee is an awful monstrosity of a human being, but refusing to accommodate for his new needs won’t help anyone. Heed that this probably counts as a disability and it isn’t something to just be dismissed because we don’t like him.” Logan couldn’t look at him. He wasn’t ready for an argument, especially not with Roman and especially not over Dee. He just pretended to read his phone. Roman sighed in defeat.

“There’s no winning against you.” He smiled. Logan looked. He wasn’t bitter.

“Because I’m always right and you know it.” He teased.

“You’re right this time, but definitely not always!”

“When have I _ever_ been wrong?” Logan asked, not even teasing anymore. He scoured his mind and found nothing that indicated him being wrong. He was too busy trying to recall that he didn’t notice Roman until he was on his lips. Roman grabbed Logan’s face and pulled him in a bit tighter.

“When you thought you didn’t deserve love.” He said, pulling him back in for another kiss.

Virgil always left work with an anxiety (he also arrived at work with an anxiety and worked all day with an anxiety, but the distinction between each of them mattered). He always checked twice before leaving that everything was in its correct place for the night staff and that everything was locked and paperwork complete. Everything had to be perfect. However, only when he had a night shift with said night staff did he realize how little of that mattered: they were just as organised and didactic as Logan was, just differently. He met Jodie first, who said she was to night as Logan was to day, but she said it with such a smile that Virgil just couldn’t compare her to his stern and strict personality. Then, there was Marilyn who was tall, almost as tall as Patton at first glance, but Virgil noticed she was actually several inches shorter when he looked at Patton again.

“There are only two of you?” He asked when nobody else came in with them. “Or is everyone else just late?”

“Just the two of us.” Jodie replied brightly. “We’re good enough at our jobs to not need more.” He and Marilyn laughed, albeit nervously.

“So which one are you?” Marilyn asked as Jodie fiddled with the keys to Logan’s office (which, it seemed now, they shared).

“I’m… I’m Virgil and I just – well I don’t really do much – I just kind of do what Logan says.”

“So your name is Virgil?” Although she interrupted him hastily, Marilyn spoke slowly.

“Yes.” Virgil nodded his head and put his hands in his pockets to stop himself from picking at his nails. He noticed the blue, pink, and white pattern on her watch strap.

“A nice name.”

“Thanks, I chose it myself.” He smiled. She looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. Subtly, he nodded his head again.

“Me too, after Monroe.” She whispered with a wink, before twisting on her heels and strutting down the corridor to assist Jodie, smiling so brightly that even the stars would hide away in shame.

Jodie was in the office, leaving just Virgil and Marilyn in the corridor with the prisoners.

“Can I ask you two a question?” Remus said, his eyes peering through the bars of his cell. They seemed to glow like fireflies.

“That depends on how grotesque the question is.” She replied.

“When you said you chose your own names, what does that mean? I’m not an expert or anything but I’m fairly sure I didn’t choose to be called Remus, it was just given to me.”

“Remus, come on man.” Tony said, exasperated. He glanced at Virgil apologetically, yet seriously.

“No, it’s okay,” Marilyn interrupted, raising her hand to halt Tony’s words, “I, for one, appreciate any attempts at learning and understanding the trans community.”

“Oh, you’re trans?” Remus’s eyes widened even more as he clung to the bars, even wrapping his legs around them. Virgil prayed, though for what exactly, he wasn’t sure. “That makes sense. So which organs were transplanted? Were Virgil and Marilyn the names of your donors? What made you need a transplant in the first place?” His questions went on and on, his eyes gaining a new spark with every gory detail he imagined for the two of them.

“Those questions are too grotesque.” Marilyn responded coolly once he’d finished. Like a spider, he clung to the bars and held himself several feet in the air. Virgil marvelled at his strength to maintain such a feat, especially considering how he had kicked his legs out in delight by the end of his questioning.

“_I_ have a question.” Jodie’s voice echoed through the corridor. Marilyn, shakily, turned to face her with a fragile beam plastered onto her face.

“What is it?” Virgil asked. Marilyn winced.

“Why are you being all buddy-buddy with these _psychopaths_,” she gestured to Remus, Patton, and Tony, “instead of working?”

“I’m literally just doing what Logan tells me to do: keeping things clean, making sure everyone’s safe, being a friend.” Virgil defended, gnawing at his tongue to hold his nerve and fervently keeping his eyes on the floor. Jodie scoffed.

“It _shows_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, feel free to leave any feedback (I really appreciate it!). See you next week! :D


	20. Acknowledgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reality settles back hard on those working in the prison as Jodie gives them a harsh and unwelcome reminder of what their job entails -- a reminder that moves Logan and Roman in all the worst ways. We explore a glimpse into Dee's home life, and see just what he gets up to when not taunting or hurting those who see the worst in him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Jodie exhibits symptoms of Big Homophobia Disease (she uses the F slur) and there is also a slight reference/joke regarding suicide. Please proceed with care. I hope you enjoy!

In many ways, opposites complement each other (though whether they actually attract is a debate Logan would vehemently would oppose outside of the context of ionic bonds, magnetic fields, and, actually, a myriad of others within science): while Logan was more assiduous and didactic, Roman was blithe; while Patton was more reserved and observant, Remus was outspoken and compulsive; and while Logan was cold on the outside yet warm and caring on the inside, Jodie first appeared happy and demure, but quickly twisted into a cruel and bitter swine. Indeed, Virgil could not compare her to Logan, but hardly in the way that he initially thought. Her voice was soft and (eerily) charming, like a whistle through mountains, but her words were sharp and dripped with venom. But always, no matter what she said, every utterance was accompanied with a smile.

“Is it usually just you and her at night?” Virgil asked Marilyn in a hushed tone while Jodie was outside, tending to some unknown matter.

“Either me or the other girl, but the other one is so young. I don’t want Jodie to be poisoning her when she’s got so much life left.”

“What, and you’re _not_ young?” Virgil smiled, trying to be encouraging. She looked at him, and he held her stare. Her soft brown eyes were young, but had seen enough for a lifetime. She didn’t need to say anything, he just understood.

“You get used to her quickly.” She said hastily. “I mean, these guys have all adjusted to her, right?” She gestured at all the prisoners, who kept their heads down.

“To be honest, I’d rather kill myself on the spot than have to spend more than the few minutes I do with her.” Tony muttered.

“She really isn’t nice.” Patton mumbled. “Logan doesn’t have the faintest idea about what kinds of things she says and does.”

“She’s just a bitch!” Remus bellowed, shaking the lights overhead.

“And it’s only gotten worse since Logan and Roman have been gone,” Tony added, “the things she says, you wouldn’t believe anyone could be capable of saying those things – not even Remus!”

“And if I were you, Virgil, I wouldn’t tell her you’re trans.” Marilyn said in a hushed tone. All five of them cowered in silence as they listened, hearing the click of heels against concrete approaching. Marilyn rushed to the supply closet and threw out a mop, which Virgil somehow caught without a second thought. As if she’d practised this ritualistic routine hundreds of times, she concocted perfectly proportioned soap-water and proceeded to mop vigorously. Virgil followed suit. In seconds, it was as if they’d been mopping for several minutes, and as if nothing was wrong. Jodie silently pulled the door open, stepping in delicately, and tentatively pushing the door closed again.

“Tony Lawrence.” She said. There was no call or question in her tone, just a monotonous, matter-of-fact drone.

“I sure do exist.” Tony responded.

“Not for long.” Snarled Jodie. “Your sentence is to be carried out next Thursday.”

“Will Roman and Logan be back by then?”

“As if I care what those fags are doing? It won’t even matter to you by Friday, so shut up and deal with yourself, you disgusting little… _Thing_.” On that sour note, she strutted back out, taking far less care in closing the door. It slammed so hard that the walls shook.

“Suddenly, Dee doesn’t seem so bad.” Virgil forced a chuckle. The tension in the air just got thicker.

Jodie left the prison an hour earlier than her shift allowed. Although insufferably rude from anyone else, her absence gave the entire prison a lighter attitude.

“You got unlucky,” Marilyn sighed, “that she showed you her true colours this quickly.”

“You’re joking?” Virgil scoffed. “You mean there are people on this world who _don’t_ think she’s a soul-sucking nightmare?”

“I’m fairly sure she’s met one of your friends. The short one with an even shorter temper?”

“That’ll be Dee.” Virgil said. Marilyn laughed genuinely for the first time, and it was as if the air had been cleaned, as if every flower bloomed at once, as if the sun itself had blessed the corridor with its light. That’s what her laugh sounded like.

“I just adore how you know exactly who I mean with just my description!”

“I mean, he’s the only one who matches the description! He’s so angry all the time and it’s concentrated in such a small space!”

“He’s not _that_ bad,” reasoned Tony, “he just really doesn’t like Logan.”

“Tony, it is important to me personally that you remember how you’ve punched him in the face at least twice and called him every rude word imaginable,” Patton snickered, “so forgive me for finding it hard to believe you when you say that he’s not that bad.”

“I never said he isn’t a dim-witted prick. I’m not entirely sure why Logan keeps him around.”

“Well, in the few hours I’ve spent with him, he does seem good at his job.” Marilyn said. Upon receiving no response except for curious glances, she elaborated, “I mean, he doesn’t need people telling him to do things, he just does them. He’s quick, too. Call him what you want, even _he_ knows he deserves it, but he’s really good at his actual job.” As she spoke of Dee in such praise, Virgil couldn’t help but ponder how he was recovering and when he’d be back. After meeting Jodie, he found himself almost missing his presence.

The rest of the day passed by uneventfully, and the next day came in just the same manner. Rain pattered on the windows, strong gusts of wind shook the trees and made their leaves rustle like thunder, and someone would drive by on occasion, adding to the sounds of water on the paths outside. Dee breathed in the petrichor, the air cold compared to the warmth from within his bed. The blankets and pillows felt particularly soft after so long on the hospital beds, which might as well have been slabs of concrete. He sat up, running his hands through his hair. It kept going, much longer than he remembered. Grabbing his phone, he scowled at his reflection in the screen.

“I look like Revenge-Era Gerard Way.” He jeered to himself, throwing his phone on the mattress. Then, he picked it back up and ran his fingers through his hair again, feeling it. “And maybe that’s a compliment.” He got dressed, simply out of routine rather than necessity, into jeans that he’d accidentally ripped at the knees long ago, and a plain black T-shirt that he’d spent far too much money on. He grabbed the mug from the side of his bed and stumbled down the stairs, holding his fingertips to his temples.

“Oh, you’re awake!” A voice said, stumbling over its own words. Dee glared at its general direction, only to be greeted by a bedraggled-looking man hastily and clumsily gathering a handful of sheets that were not Dee’s.

“I am.” He replied, trying his best to remember what could have happened on his way home yesterday that could have led to this circumstance.

“Look, I really can’t thank you enough for letting me stay the night –” He said with scurry.

“Oh,” Dee sighed, “of course. Don’t worry about it. Do you want a coffee? Something to eat?” Before the man could answer, he strode to the kitchen, prepared two mugs for coffee, pulled out two plates, and started cooking two portions of his favourite breakfast.

They ate in silence, neither daring to break the ice. The rain pounded harder on the windows. Dee saw flashes of light before his eyes that might have been lightning, though he wasn’t entirely sure. The man didn’t comment on it at all, just ate with the manners and politeness of a knight.

“Did I ever ask your name?” He asked once they’d both finished.

“They call me Dee, and you can too. What’s yours?”

“Oh, it’s Edwin.” He replied with hesitance. He stared at Dee, expectedly. “You aren’t laughing.”

“Astute observation,” Dee remarked sardonically, “though a less astute one would be seeing how… Well, let’s just say you blend in well with the streets.”

“How kind.”

“The shower is upstairs and to the right. Can’t miss it.”

As the hours passed, the sun began to set, pouring shades of orange and pink over an off-blue canvas. Logan eyed Roman from across the living room; he sat on the windowsill facing the sun, his skin soaking up the sunlight and making him appear gold, his irises melting to resemble the colour of honey. Roman pretended not to notice, knowing that any glance in Logan’s direction would make him avert his eyes, and he knew he looked dreamy in the golden light. The tranquillity of the moment was ended abruptly when Logan’s phone lit up and rang in a shrill shriek.

“Hello, Virgil, how have you been?” Logan asked, levelling his voice so that neither he nor Roman would think he had been caught off guard – though one of them had already noticed.

“Not bad, yourself?” Virgil replied in the customary muffled-static tone.

“Much the same. Roman and I will be back tomorrow, before you ask.”

“Oh, that’s good, but what I really called to ask was… Do you remember when Tony is, well, when he’s _due_?” Virgil asked, his voice wavering as if he couldn’t decide who he was talking to. Logan tried to remember, picturing the calendar he had hung in his office with every date marked, all the paperwork he’d done for Tony, before realising.

“More recently than I had anticipated.” He eventually answered.

“Yeah, _Thursday_,” he sounded exasperated, “and he wanted to make sure you’re going to be there. You _and_ Roman, I mean.”

“That depends on what time it’s scheduled for. If he’s really desperate for any of us in particular to be there, I suppose I could organise and allocate shifts accordingly but the last time I did that, Dee was far from pleased about it.”

“Remember, Lo,” Roman interrupted in a whisper, “that Dee probably won’t be back for at least another week, so that won’t matter too much.”

“What’s wrong with the night staff though?” Unbeknown to Logan and Roman, Marilyn’s face spoke volumes to Virgil. He didn’t know why exactly, but he understood that Logan couldn’t know – at least not by his hands.

“I guess he just prefers you.” He suggested.

“Understandable. I’ll see to it that he gets what he wants. Thank you for reminding me of the matter.” And with that, he hung up without another word.

“What was that about?” Roman asked.

“Just Virgil telling me that we have to kill Tony on Thursday and it has to be us specifically. He didn’t say why.”

“Lo, you haven’t _met_ the night staff, have you?”

“I gave them their jobs, of course I’ve met them.”

“But you haven’t worked with them, at least not for a while?”

“Not for a few years now. Jodie does a good enough of a job keeping everyone in line that I don’t need to.” Logan uttered with such a debilitating nonchalance – apathy, even – that he had to fight off sudden tears. He blinked heavily, swallowed the lump in his throat, and took deep breaths. This continued for several minutes, going unnoticed. Logan simply resumed his past activity of staring, albeit in a direction where Roman would not be able to meet his eyes. In silence, they stayed on opposite sides of the room avoiding having to acknowledge and be acknowledged by each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed. Feel free to leave any comments and criticisms! :D


	21. Hydrate or Die-drate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reminder of where exactly we are: Dee faces some of the consequences of his actions, but obviously Logan and Roman get the worst of it. The prisoners are made ever the more intriguing when they finally get left alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter because I forgot about the concept of time and that Thursday exists. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy! :D

Nothing would ever be the same for Dee: after he’d been hit in the head, he heard a never-ending high-pitched shrill of a whistle in his right ear. All noise had to fight above that to be heard and, even if any noise was loud enough to do so, comprehending what it was, was a different story. Once Edwin had left, after trying and failing to refuse Dee’s offerings of food and money and all things else, he threw himself onto his bed and sobbed. He clicked his fingers by the right of his head and, to his rage and upset, absolutely nothing changed. He wrestled with his bedsheets and his thoughts, trying to take out his frustrations and deal with the fact that his life had changed (for worse) forever.

Dee didn’t sleep all night. Even if the incessant ringing hadn’t kept him up, his thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone. He’d close his eyes and the flash of metal before him would resurface, and he could practically feel all the pain he felt in those moments, and the horror and terror he felt, the very real fear that the metal against his head, the feeling as if his brain had been beaten out of his skull, would be the last he’d ever feel, would all come back in a flash. That was not even the worst of it: knowing what he’d done to Roman and Logan, something that would stick with them in all the worst ways until they died, was a pain far beyond anything else he’d experienced and would likely ever experience again. His only solace, a warm comfort in the ice of pain, was that if it hadn’t been for him, it would have been Jodie. If even Dee feared her, it could only mean that she would have been far harsher to them, and she would repent far, far less.

Those rare times when the corridor would be empty, leaving the prisoners free to talk to each other, had become far less rare; with Logan, Roman, and Dee gone, it was down to Virgil and Marilyn to do all the work necessary what with Jodie and the other girl (who Virgil had never met) barely coming in.

“I think it’s really disrespectful of her to just leave the work to everyone else.” Said Tony when nobody was around.

“I’d rather her be away if it means we have to see less of her,” reasoned Patton, “but it does put a lot more strain on them.”

“Her being her wouldn’t change that though, she just makes everyone else do what she needs to do while she sits in Logan’s office on her phone. The only thing that would change would be the amount of verbal abuse we all get.”

“Why don’t they tell Logan about her? He could fire her, surely?” Patton asked. Tony just laughed. “Why are you laughing?”

“Don’t take it personally, I’ve been here longer than you. I just know these things. If Jodie found out that anyone told him, she could fire them, she could fire Logan, and she would probably just freak out and take it out on everyone else.”

“That’s _unlawful_!” Patton cried.

“And we’re all ones to talk!” Remus laughed maniacally. “I mean, we’re all here because we’re all so lawful, aren’t we?”

“_I_ am.” Patton and Tony said simultaneously, though with opposing tones: while Tony was bitter and resentful, Patton was still pleading his innocence. Remus stayed silent for a moment, wide-eyed, before laughing again just the same.

“Well, speak for yourselves.”

It came to Logan’s attention that he and Roman would run out of sick days soon and that they would have to return to Montfort Prison very shortly. This information was not taken kindly by him: after everything they had been through, he believed it to be unjust and cruel that they’d be expected to go back, so quickly, to the stressful environment of the prison and, that same week, have to be grounded back into the reality of their job. Clouds settled all over the sky leaving no hint of blue. Just a still and suffocating greyness. Even from inside, it was clear that the outside world was still; there was no breeze, no birds flying overhead, and no cars driving by. Just agonizing silence and stillness. Even if not for what Dee did, the overwhelming quiet would be enough to make any noise seem explosive. Logan ran the tap for a while, making sure the water was icy cold, before filling up a vase. He searched around the house for Roman before eventually finding him in the garden on a collapsible plastic chair doing nothing but staring towards the table before him.

“Drink this.” Logan requested, thrusting the vase towards him. The water sloshed, but didn’t spill.

“Just set it down, I’ll get it later.” He replied, gesturing vaguely towards the table without shifting his gaze.

“I would like to see you have at least a few sips now.” Logan did his best to remain blank-faced as Logan threw his head back in protest and wailed his arms to the side.

“_Why_?”

“Hydrate or die-drate! You haven’t had anything to drink today and that can lead to you feeling dizzy, fatigued, give you headaches, and just many worse things. I’m not asking a lot, just please do this.” Logan begged. Roman, ever the rebel, still seemed unsure. “For me.” Reluctantly, Roman reached for the vase and drank half of it within just a few seconds, maintaining eye contact with Logan the entire time.

Roman drank the water. He hated every moment of it. He only did it for Logan. He knew nothing would ever be enough to apologise for what he didn’t do. At the very least, he could do what was necessary to make him happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave any feedback or thoughts you might have! :D


	22. An Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan and Roman have to return to work and awareness of what exactly Patton can do grows. By the end of the day, Logan gets an idea that risks everything but could change everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **SPOILERS FOR SVS 2** listen I know what happened in the latest video. Dee stays as Dee. I hope you enjoy!! :D

Logan’s alarm clock rung, a shrill shriek shattering the silence that he’d not only become accustomed to, but found solace in. His eyes shot open instantly but his body lagged behind. Instead of blood, it felt like liquid lead had been pumping through his legs, and his arms felt like they were being crushed by rocks with his name written and weaknesses engraved in them. His head felt weak, too. Burning, melting, turning to dust, as if he’d been crying. He took in a deep breath. His eyes closed again. Tired, and with loose inhibitions, he simply rolled over and felt for the warmness of Roman. Finding him, he pulled himself in close and didn’t let go. He always set an alarm half an hour early anyway.

Roman was actually the first to try to get up. Logan was still resting his head on his chest after all the time that had passed. Rather than wake him any other way, he used his charm: he trailed his fingers across his back making his way up to his neck and up to his hair. He ran his fingers through his hair and twirled locks between them.

“Is it time?” Logan mumbled, his eyes still closed and his movements barely alive. Roman, unstopping, replied.

“Yeah, there’s no five more minutes this time.” He smiled. Logan clung to Roman even tighter, wrapping both his legs around Roman’s and curling his arms around Roman’s back as he tried to sit up. Roman laughed brightly, and Logan’s refusal to budge or loosen his (surprisingly strong) grip only made him laugh harder.

“Time isn’t real, it’s fine.” Logan mumbled, now more awake but not letting go – for no other reason than he had passed the point of no return, really.

“Okay, fine.” Roman teased. Though Logan initially took it as concession, he was quickly put back in his place when Roman swiftly stood up and out of bed as if Logan were not even there. Persistent, Logan simply clung tighter (admittedly in part out of fear rather than sheer persistence).

“I bet you didn’t think I was this strong!” He laughed.

“Are you part monkey or something? This is insane!” Roman replied. It only then struck him that perhaps he should hold Logan too to stop him from falling. Although, it hardly seemed that he needed it given that he had been clinging just as well when he had been walking around _without_ support.

Suited and serotonined up, they were ready to leave again – almost: Roman had forgotten to put on his name badge. Tenderly, Logan reached for it from Roman’s own hand and pinned it in place himself. Only then did they finally leave. Roman started the car, the sound of the engine rippling through the air inside it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before moving. Both hands were on the wheel, but they gripped it so hard that his knuckles turned white and his arms twitched.

“Why are you so nervous?” Logan asked as he finally did his seat belt. Roman only gripped harder.

“I worry for how we’re going to be received upon our return,” he said, “it’s hard to know what the prisoners know and what they’ll ask and what other people will think.”

“Other people?” Logan asked, perplexed, “What do you mean? Dee knows _full well_ what happened but won’t be there for a long while, and Virgil just wouldn’t tell them.” Roman said nothing else. He just thought of a woman with a toxically bright smile.

When they arrived, everything clicked back into place and it felt as if they’d never left. They checked in, looked for Virgil, checked their responsibilities, and started working like they always had. When Roman had found Virgil, while Logan was in his office presumably preparing for Thursday, they clicked less like colleagues but like old friends. Virgil’s smile was shy and too used to being hidden, but it brought a long-lost life back into his eyes.

“It’s good to see you guys again. How was all your time off?” He snickered. Hearing Virgil sound so irreverent was almost a relief from the expected seriousness.

“About as good as trauma aftermath gets.” Roman replied, matching his tone. Then, the sound of clanging metal erupted from Remus’s cell as he had leapt onto its bars and started shaking them, making them rattle from within the floor and walls. If he really tried, Roman had no doubt that he could have broken them off by now.

“What _happened_?” He asked, wide-eyed and mouth agape. Virgil glanced at Roman with pursed lips and worried eyes. He stayed silent.

“Let’s just say,” Roman smirked maliciously, “that if the inclination came upon any of you to hurt Dee, I wouldn’t object.”

“Logan would.” Interjected Patton, who had sprung to the bars of his own cell and clung to them desperately. “You really want to give him more work to do after everything he’s been through and considering what he already has to do?” He gestured to Tony, who nodded his head casually and smiled with nothing but his lips. “I respect you both, but an attitude like that truly sickens me. Not to mention that Dee has already been severely hurt – by Logan, nonetheless.”

“But –” Roman tried to protest.

“I will have none of it. Save your words for someone who cares.” With that, he released the bars and retreated back into the darkest corner of his cell. Roman and Virgil directed their gaze towards Tony but he, too, had retreated. Remus was the only one who remained, but his gaze was unsettling: the line between absent-minded and fully focussed, and Roman couldn’t decide which exactly was worse. Instead, he just backed away and into Logan’s office.

“I thought you said Virgil wouldn’t tell anyone about what happened?” Roman asked as the door clicked shut behind him. Logan looked up and pushed his glasses up his nose.

“I did say that because I believed it. What evidence have you to the contrary?” With his debonair and cool demeanour, Roman was quickly reminded of how Logan’s work-self differed greatly from his home-self.

“Patton just talked about all the pain Dee’s been through. How would he know that?”

“Bring Virgil here now, please.” Roman jumped backwards and swung on the door, shouting Virgil’s name. He scurried over nervously, his knees damp from some kind of mopping incident gone wrong.

“Is everything alright, Logan?” He asked with a shaky voice. His eyes darted between the two. Noticing a height difference, Roman stepped far back. Virgil wasn’t small, but Logan and Roman would put anyone to shame. Even though both his hands were planted firmly in his pockets, Roman could tell that he’d stopped pulling on the fabrics.

“Everything is fine,” Logan said, allowing Virgil to breathe, “but did you tell anyone about what I did to Dee?”

“No.” Virgil replied firmly. “Not a soul.”

“Okay, then. Excuse me, I need to talk to Patton.” Logan stood up and barely noticed his two colleagues as he strode out the door and towards Patton’s cell. As he passed Tony, he glanced to the side with a softness in his eyes that Roman hadn’t ever seen at work before. Still, he marched on as his two lemmings followed. He stopped and turned to face Patton.

“Good morning.” He smiled. Patton approached warmly.

“Is everything okay?” He asked. Patton overlooked Logan by several inches, but a literal sense was really the only way Patton looked down on him.

“When you… Do your magic healing thing… What happens to you as part of the aftermath?”

“What _exactly_ are you trying to find out?” Patton asked monotonously yet powerfully. A carefully crafted tone.

“Can you feel the pain of the people you heal? Is that how you know that Dee’s in pain?” Patton smiled on a line between overjoyed and smug.

“You’re observant. I’m pretty sure that that’s how it works, too.”

“Wait,” Logan scoffed, “you don’t know how it works?”

“Nobody does, least of all me. I just put my hands on people and take their pain away from them and suddenly I forget things and can feel some of their more excruciating experiences.”

“Wait, so you can heal people? That’s what this is about?” Virgil gasped.

“Anyone can heal people I guess. I’m just… Proficient?” Patton replied cautiously. It was Tony’s turn to interject next.

“Don’t tell anyone about this, Virgil, or I swear to god I will cut you.” His eyebrows furrowed as his eyes hardened, fixated on Virgil. He blinked rapidly and held his fingers up to his temples.

“So, what I saw with Dee after the commotion with Logan… That was real, and it was to heal him?”

“Virgil, please don’t tell anyone.” Patton begged. The light reflected more brightly in his eyes as tears welled up. Everyone stared at Virgil with expressions ranging from threatening to pleading. He sighed.

“But what if we can use it to get him off death row?” He asked.

“And let him live a life of government experimentation?” Logan spat. Virgil returned his glare back at him.

“Have you asked Patton what he wants?” He hissed. All their faces then shifted onto Patton, who simply lowered his gaze.

“All my life I’ve wanted to help people. I would rather die knowing I did the best I could to do that then live being used by a government using me as a means of exploitation. Let me live and die. _Here_.”

The rest of the day flew by much more casually, but Logan’s mind was plagued by Patton’s words: if Patton had dedicated his whole life to helping people this way, how had he never been found out before? Logan and his staff couldn’t be the first to know about it; he’d been alive for over a hundred years.

“And it’s basically confirmation that he’s been falsely arrested under circumstantial evidence that turned out to be literally the opposite of what everyone thinks it is!” He blurted out on the ride home.

“You’re thinking about Patton?” Roman asked, side-eyeing him. Logan threw himself back against his seat.

“Who else?”

“But we can’t tell anyone about that lest something worse than death happens.”

“Hey, I just had a thought.” Logan’s eyes lit up as he sat straight again.

“About time.”

“Shush, seriously, just… What if we let him go? We could just say he escaped, we don’t have to tell anyone we released him.”

“We could still lose our jobs for that, even get arrested ourselves for some kind of neglect.”

“I’m willing to lose my job for the greatest miracle of science to keep his life. Either turn this car around right now, or drop me here and go home by yourself. I’m going back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was yearning as I wrote the start of this chapter and it shows. I hope you enjoyed, feel free to leave any feedback, it's greatly appreciated! :D


	23. Why?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman and Logan, or at least the latter, have a plan to save one of the most important things in their lives. However, with Virgil being forever furtive about the night staff, tensions rise, and there's one key obstacle to Patton's life -- and obstacle that almost everyone in the prison is all too familiar with

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly I would like to apologise for this chapter being a bit all over the place, but otherwise I hope you enjoy! Also, the ending of the last chapter is very important for the beginning of this one (re. the plan to help Patton escape) so you might want to get a refresher of that if you can't remember) :D

Logan barely felt safe in his own home, Dee had been irreparably damaged (one of those things mattered more to Roman), and one simple text could have saved all of that. Roman knew he wouldn’t let Logan go back to Patton by himself while he went home.

“If you take me there, you don’t have to come in,” Logan explained, “just sit here while I talk to him so you can have plausible deniability.” Roman pulled the car to the side, but didn’t turn it around.

“Everyone is going to have to get involved by simple proximity. Do you trust them _all_, Tony and Remus included?” He asked.

“What I need first and foremost is Patton’s agreement. That’s what I want to get now.”

“Think this through before you try anything, okay?” Roman tried to reason. A long-lost light came into Logan’s eyes, a liveliness rekindled behind them.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll think about it tonight and formulate a plan!” Logan pressed his fingertips together and held them to his chest. Roman started the car and continued driving home.

“And to think that not too long ago, you were concerned that you didn’t feel anything in this job anymore.” He muttered. Though loudly enough for Logan to hear him, he was too engrossed in his own thoughts to pay it any mind.

At home, Logan sped straight to the bedroom. From downstairs, Roman could only hear shuffling, the rustling of papers being strewn about carelessly, and eventually intense scratchings as he, presumably, started sketching out a plan. Roman resumed his daily routine of pouring out a coffee, only one for now, and watching the TV. Every pause in the volume was filled with the etching of pen and pencil on paper.

Logan hadn’t left the room for hours. He hadn’t eaten nor slept, but every so often Roman would hear an exasperated cry of frustration from downstairs, a circle of delicate footsteps, and then the same scratching sounds. Roman cooked and ate by himself. An hour after the sun set, he rested on the sofa in darkness, his eyes fixated on the TV, as he thought himself to sleep.

Roman woke up to the sound of a shrill ring by his side. He rubbed his eyes and squinted through the light, eventually recognising the ceiling above him as his living room. He sat up, the alarm still ringing. He didn’t remember until he saw Logan lying on the floor next to him that he doesn’t set the alarms. Logan frantically tapped his phone to make the ringing stop. When silence finally fell, Logan sat up to face Roman.

“Why are you down here?” He asked as he felt the floor for his glasses.

“Why are you? I thought you were working.” Roman replied.

“You know you’re allowed to be in my presence while I’m trying to do things, right?” Logan blinked and smiled as he finally got his clever and nerdy look restored.

“It seemed important this time, so I stayed here.”

“Well, my plan amounted to very little anyway; at one in the morning I realized that I can’t implement it by myself as I’ll need Patton to co-ordinate with me on it and provide input on what he’s willing to do. Anyway, I didn’t want you to wake up alone.” Logan got up and immediately started making coffee and breakfast before Roman could even keep his eyes open.

They rushed out the door, Logan ushering Roman to have haste despite the extra minutes they still had to spare. Even when they were in the car, Logan fidgeted and allowed his eyes to dart all over. As a test, Roman pulled the window down and stuck one hand out. This didn’t elicit any comment from Logan. He put both hands back on the wheel before bringing Logan back to reality.

“Are you still thinking of how to let Patton stay alive?” He asked.

“Of course,” Logan sighed, “I just wish I could do it for all of them. It isn’t fair.”

“That you’re even considering it for one person is already too much; we worked – you worked – so hard for so long to get to where you are now and look at yourself! You’re willing to risk it all for _Patton_?”

“It’s not just him, though, is it? It’s everyone he’s ever healed and everyone he will ever get around to healing. Saving his life is saving so many others.” Logan pouted, his hands still, and just stared ahead as Roman kept driving.

Tony stayed at the back of his cell, sat in the darkest corner with his head in his hands and his hands tugging at his hair. Occasionally he would let his fingers slide down his face, digging a nail into his skin to make himself feel real again. His breathing was inaudible, but he took in gulps of air as if he were drowning. His eyes were a desert. As he pulled at his hair incessantly and with increasing vigour, his life passed before him: every ray of sun and drop of rain on his skin, every gush of wind through his hair, every blade of grass and pebble beneath his feet. He didn’t miss his house; what he yearned for the most was the feeling of being outside and every sensation that came with it. He swallowed the old musty air in his cell. That, and that alone, would have to suffice.

“Does anyone know what day it is?” Remus asked, his voice echoing in the hallow corridor of the prison and corner of Tony’s mind. “Like, day of the week?”

“Either Monday or Tuesday, I’m not entirely sure which.” Patton replied in his ever-soft voice. However soft and well-intended he was, Patton had only served as a harsh reminder. Tony yelped out in a poignant agony. He heard shuffling from next to him, as if Remus were rolling on the floor. He looked up to see Patton (whose cell was opposite his own), looking a mixture of horrified, impressed, and curious. Suddenly, a looming shadowy figure appeared at the corner of Tony’s cell.

“Tony, come here.” It said. “Quickly, someone might be here any second.” Tony got up and, as he got closer, noticed that the figure was what he simultaneously hoped and feared: Remus himself. Tony approached and stood by the bars, his lips parted in shock. From the corner of his eye, he saw Patton’s eyes widen, too.

“How did you do that?” Tony asked, poking Remus at his shoulder to confirm that he was real.

“You’ve never seen me do this before?” He asked far too casually given the situation, “That’s beside the point.” Suddenly, Tony felt a grip on his shoulders as Remus pulled him into a hug.

“What the hell are –”

“Whatever happens afterwards, I hope you get the best of it. I’ll be thinking of you.” Remus balled his hand into a fist and gently but firmly punched Tony’s shoulder. As the sound of a car engine came through the corridor, followed by the slam of a car door, Remus bolted back to his cell, squeezing back into it. Tony glanced at Patton, who looked just as dumbfounded as Tony felt.

“How do you do that?” Tony asked, peaking his head through the bars to see Remus dust himself off.

“Patton heals, I squeeze through small gaps,” he smiled, “I guess we all have our secrets.” At that moment, Roman and Logan arrived. In trying so hard to act natural and not rouse any suspicion, the three made it immediately clear that something not natural had occurred.

“Is everything okay?” Logan asked, his eyebrows furrowing. Even Roman had his lips pursed at the sight of them all looking so stiff.

“About okay as they can be.” Tony said. Patton nodded vigorously and Remus just grinned. Roman and Logan continued as normal. Strolling towards his office, Logan passed Tony’s cell. As he did so, he noticed a soft smile on his face. Cautious though it appeared, that Tony could find comfort in _something_ during such times reminded Logan of the importance of small pockets of joy in the mundane.

When Virgil arrived halfway through the day, everything returned to normal: Logan was in his office emailing back and forth and sorting out paperwork regarding Thursday; Roman was doing whatever tasks Logan had asked him to do; Patton was humming alone staring at the opposite wall of his cell; and Tony and Remus stayed silent. However, while Tony was performing a casual, nonchalant quiet, Remus was clutching his bars and had his legs wrapped around them like a hamster to a cage, staring, and only opening his mouth to bark swears and insults at Roman when he walked by. Virgil sighed as he went to report his presence to Logan, and jumped as Remus stuck his head through the bars and shouted out, calling him a bitch.

“Thanks, Remus.” Virgil spat, clenching his fists. He opened Logan’s door.

“I’m here.” He said. Logan looked up, pushed his glasses up his nose, and squinted.

“You’re in a sour mood today. What’s that about?” Logan asked. Virgil sighed before dramatically throwing himself on the chair facing Logan’s desk.

“I’m just tired, and I really don’t like having later shifts. When’s Dee coming back? I almost miss having him around even if only to take the shifts nobody else likes.”

“I’ll ask him. He has up to another ten days of paid leave.” Logan explained. “But if you’d like, I could take your hours today – don’t worry about pay, I’ll give you what you need.”

“Who’s working on the night shift today?” Virgil asked. He crossed his fingers and prayed for something, but even he didn’t know exactly what.

“Marilyn and Jodie!” Logan exclaimed, “I wonder why it’s always those two.”

“You don’t control that?” Virgil asked.

“No, not the night shifts. That’s down to Jodie, generally, though I can have some influence.” Logan smiled. “I’ll work your time tonight, so –” Virgil interrupted before he could finish.

“You know, now that I think about it,” his mind raced to think of something, “I quite like working with them. I’ll do it myself. Forget I said anything. See you later!” And with that, he scampered out, trying to level his breath. He had to avoid thinking about what Jodie would do to him if Logan found out about her ways, in order to keep passably calm. He pulled a Dee to keep himself occupied and focussed, by picking up a mop and cleaning the already spotless and shining floor.

“Virgil, will you please go down the mile and make sure we’re all set up?” Logan requested after some time had passed. His eyes couldn’t help but trail towards Tony, whose parted lips and wide eyes heard only words of betrayal. Logan had to remain stern.

“Okay, sure.” Virgil replied.

“And make sure that _everything_ is absolutely _perfect_. Not just a quick look around for adequacy.” As the door to the mile clicked closed, Roman stood by it as a block, kicking his heel against it. Logan marched to Patton’s cell, unlocked it, and stepped inside. Remus and Tony looked on in fearful curiosity.

“Is everything okay, Logan?” Patton asked, retreating to the farthest wall away from him.

“What does it mean that I’m in this cell with you?” Logan interrogated.

“That he’s in trouble!” Remus yelled. Logan ignored him. Patton stayed silent.

“I trust you,” Logan explained, “and I need you to trust me, take me seriously, and hear me out.”

“Okay…” Patton’s voice quivered, but his hands stopped shaking.

“How would you feel about freedom? If we could just get you out of here, let you live wherever you wanted to go, and let you be free and far, far away from here?” Logan asked, his voice creeping into one of desperation. Tension filled the air. Patton looked around, and relaxed. His eyes landed on Tony before hastily redirected his gaze. Logan raised his eyebrows, trying to get a response.

“No, I can’t do that.” He replied.

“What?” Logan blurted out. “Why not?” Time seemed to slow as the room blurred. Logan felt his face turn damp, but didn’t flinch at all to try to stop it.

“Isn’t it too risky?” Patton cried.

“That’s not important to me, Patton! You’re far more important than this stupid fucking job, I don’t care! I will find something else, why won’t you let me help you? I’m the only one who would lose anything, and that’s something I’m prepared to do! I don’t care! I’d rather lose this job where all I do is make people trust me enough to kill them than let the world lose someone as… As… As just miraculous as you! Why won’t you let me do that?” Logan started to shout, but only his mind moved, whirring to find reason.

“Logan, I don’t know how else to say this…” Patton approached him and put a hand on his shoulder, “but I think your white privilege is talking. If you think that they would spare a moment in hunting down a black man who they think killed a family of white people and managed to escape here, you haven’t been working this job long enough. I’d get hunted and killed on the spot, in fear. If I’m going to have to die, I want it to be here. With you guys, my friends.” Like a spear to the heart, Logan took in every word. He looked over to Roman, who raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips – the clear universal sign for ‘he just made a good point’. He looked at Tony, who nodded solemnly. He looked at Remus, who smiled sadly. Then he looked back at Patton, who raised his hand off Logan’s shoulder to cup face and wiped away tear after tear.

“I’m sorry,” Logan choked, “I’m sorry that I can’t do better for you.”

“If you have anything else to say, make it quick!” Roman yelled. Logan bounded out of Patton’s cell and headed straight for the bathroom.

Logan splashed cold water on his face, shocking him in how cold it actually was and how much redness and flushing it hid from his face.

“Knock knock, nerd.” Roman’s voice said. Logan couldn’t help but smile. He told Roman to come in, which he did in the form of doing the front splits through the room. From his pocket, he pulled out the lightest foundation Logan had ever seen.

“You’re not that pale?” Logan observed.

“You’re just as astute as ever,” Roman laughed, “_I’m_ not that pale, but you are. Look up, buttercup.” Roman cupped Logan’s face with a smile as he painted on his skin, perfectly masking any indication of Logan’s despondence with his artistry.

“Thank you, Roman.” Logan said, staring into his eyes, which were distracted by his work. What would have taken Logan an hour, Roman did in just minutes.

“No need to thank me!” He laughed. “What was I supposed to do? Just leave you here alone? Nope, I would never.”

“But still…” Logan muttered, but with a smile. He didn’t understand what Roman was doing, but it certainly tickled.

“And… We’re done! Virgil has no reason to be suspicious now. Come on, lift your head up and smile, your glasses are falling.” Roman winked. Despite everything, Logan couldn’t help but smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got so sad writing this that I had to take a couple breaks and I hope you can see where. Anyway, feel free to leave any feedback, it's all greatly appreciated! :D


	24. Nothing to Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time is up for Tony, that is all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ten minutes past midnight counts as Thursday. Don't kill me.

Enough time had passed for Tony, as had been cruelly decided for him. When Thursday came, the alarm to wake up Roman and Logan became the gavel giving them their own sentence. The sun that shone through the barely-closed curtains became a spotlight, and the roads taken to get to work became their own personal mile. Virgil was already there when they arrived, waiting anxiously next to Tony’s cell. He wasn’t speaking with him, he was just there. He looked at the two of them with damp eyes, and nodded his head. He took a breath.

“Are Annie and Lydia coming?” He asked. Tony, though invisible from where Logan and Roman stood, audibly choked. Logan merely nodded.

“They’ll be here by midday,” he said, “and they’ll want to start immediately.” Nobody moved; even though there would likely be something that would need to be done, nobody wanted to move. Logan didn’t want to tell anyone to move. They all just looked around, trying not to stare at Tony. Suddenly, Virgil cleared his throat.

“Did you find out when Dee would be coming back?” He asked Logan.

“Oh, I forgot, sorry. I’ll ask him now.”

“Be careful how you phrase it,” Roman smiled lightly, “or he’ll think you’re asking him to come in today.” Tony laughed, and approached the end of his cell, sticking his head through the bars.

“Make it clear that he shouldn’t come in today,” he smiled, “this is _my_ day, after all!”

Lydia and Annie did indeed arrive at midday, and not a minute later. With the same didactic nature that they used during Jason’s sentence, they asked all the prisoners for their names and checked on Logan for background information.

“Must we go through all of this again?” Roman muttered through gritted teeth. Virgil threw him a cautious glance.

“Careful how loud you are…” He warned, his tone hushed.

“I mean, it’s just a way to exert control and be further dehumanising, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I would agree, but please be quiet or they’ll hear you.”

“I hope they do.” Roman fell to lean against the wall and crossed his arms. Once they reached Patton, he glared across to them, briefly holding eye contact with Annie. In return, she offered him a soft and sad gaze, with equal but opposite energy to Roman’s vehement anger. Finally, they came to Tony.

“And I’m the one you’re killing off.” Tony said, pitifully. In truth, he wasn’t angry – he couldn’t afford to be angry – but strangely accustomed already, as if he knew exactly what to expect.

“I need you to say your name.” Annie said gently. Tony sighed.

“Tony Lawrence.”

“Come this way.” She unlocked the cell, the cage, and went to handcuff Tony.

“That won’t be necessary,” Logan interjected, suddenly appearing at the bars, “I trust him.” Tony looked at his, eyes as bright as the day he arrived, but not hopeful. Just grateful.

“Oh, okay,” Lydia stumbled, gesturing for Annie to put the handcuffs away, before gesturing for them all to follow her, and walk down the mile together. Logan placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder, before guiding him to the door leading to the mile. As it swung open, Tony looked back to Remus and Patton. He couldn’t see Remus, but Patton gave him a reassuring smile (the reassurance was slightly dampened by the tears on his face, but appreciated nonetheless).

The chair was cold. Roman strapped Tony into it. Virgil stood by the electric switch. Annie and Lydia stood to the side. Logan stood next to the women, but he didn’t shield himself behind a clipboard like they did. Tony let his eyes linger on Logan. Would he have accepted if Logan had offered _him_ the chance to escape? Sat in the chair, restrained, watched, and pitied, he knew now what he would have said. He swallowed the growing resentment to Patton, wishing he could have taken his place.

“Do you…” Roman choked, “do you have any last words?” Tony knew Patton was right. It’d be better to die here rather than be hunted.

“I regret nothing.” He whispered. It was true, but not the whole truth: in fact, he had nothing to regret. Tony closed his eyes, his last sight being Logan’s face turning, and head nodding. The electricity was a lot louder than they remembered. As quickly as the electricity itself, Tony stopped moving and quaking, and not another noise came out of him. Annie and Lydia moved swiftly, taking him to the mortuary while Roman, Virgil, and Logan stood solemnly.

Patton clung to Remus. Even from the corridor, the sounds echoed like a thunderstorm. Patton clung to him, wishing for the noise and the pain to end. Not even Patton’s miracle would be any help at this point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a short chapter, and tomorrow I will post another short chapter, then we'll be going back to the normal chapter length every Thursday. I hope you enjoyed, feel free to leave any feedback!! :D


	25. Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grieving their loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised!! Another short chapter (half past midnight counts as 'tomorow') next week we're back to our reguarly scheduled posting!! :D

Night settled in at home. Logan sat outside under the light of the starts and moon. His phone had been resting next to him, but he didn’t touch it. He didn’t move. He didn’t flinch when the backdoor opened and Roman approached him with a flickering candle. He didn’t flinch when he set the candle dish down noisily in front of him. Only when he sat down beside him and reached out his hand did Logan move. He turned to face him slowly, his eyes tired and having lost the light Patton gave him. Tentatively, he took it and let Roman squeeze.

“You don’t need to speed-run grief, Lo.” He said, trying desperately to reach him. Rather than respond, Logan just tilted his head back and let tears fall silently down his cheeks. Roman didn’t move to wipe them away, just squeezed his hand tighter.

“I want to name a star after him,” his words spluttered through a stifled sob, “after Tony.”

“Which star?” Roman watched as Logan looked up into the sky, his eyes quivering to search for the perfect one. After a few moments, he pulled Roman towards him, gripping his shoulder tightly, and pointed up to one of the brightest and roundest ones in sight.

“That one.”

After over an hour of sitting together in silence, Roman turned on the fairy lights, usually reserved for special occasions. Logan watched with a flushed face as he dug through his pocket to find his phone. He typed for just a few moments, before a deep melody played from it. The slow hum radiated the air, Roman once again gestured for Logan to take his hand. Logan took it and allowed Roman to pull him up. They stood together for a moment as the song played.

“When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth,” the voice sang. Roman pulled Logan in tightly, holding him by the waist.

“No grave can hold my body down, I’ll crawl home to her.” Roman let Logan rest his head on his shoulder. They stood, rocking.

“She never asked me once about the wrong I did.” They stayed, still, with Logan burying his face in the crook of Roman’s neck.

“Heaven and Hell were words to me.” The voice sang, and his chorus joined him. Roman and Logan stood together, closely. Roman held him as tightly as he could. Tony shone on them, helping among millions of others to light up their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song referenced is Work Song by Hozier in case anyone's interested!! I hope you enjoyed, feel free to leave any feedback! :D


	26. Texts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Through a series of texts, the only thing that's certain is that, soon, Dee will return. All but Logan and Jodie know how that will end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter's a bit short ngl I got depressed for several days dlkdjsaklsal nevertheless, I hope you enjoy! :D

There was no sick leave for grief, no matter how sickening it felt to walk through the door and know there was an extra cell free, but no witty comments and no mediator and no friend where there used to be. Logan had seen this hundreds of times, prisoners becoming friends only for them to meet their demise by his own hands. He looked at Patton. Images of his calendar flashed before his eyes, with October 28th marked in red. Patton looked back, seeing a shell of stoicism that would too easily be crumbled. Logan took a moment to register that he was staring. He shook off his thoughts and continued his day as normal as he would be allowed.

“Logan?” Remus asked, slithering up to his bars.

“What?” He sighed, verging on a hiss. Roman watched from a distance, wary.

“When is it my turn?” His eyes widened and his lips stayed slightly parted. Already, Remus looked like Jason during his last days: matted and knotted hair, empty eyes, and somehow dust collected and encrusting his skin as if he were an antique.

“November fifth.” Logan said. He continued walking to his office. Roman went to the obituary.

“Logan?” Patton called just as Logan had opened his door. In a surge of anger, he slammed it open and threw his arms in the air.

“_What_?” His voice was a low growl, but the air between him and Patton shook like a shout. Patton lowered his eyes and stepped deep into his cell.

“I just wanted to say,” his voice wavered and broke, “that I’m sorry for your loss.” He retreated so far into his cell that, by the time he was halfway through his utterance, Logan couldn’t even see the light reflecting in his eyes. For someone so big, he disappeared so easily.

Logan stared at the calendar from his desk. Patton’s sentence was to be carried out in just four weeks, and Remus’s just a week after that. Tony hadn’t even been taken away yet. How long ago was Jason? Patton would be next, and who even had any idea if someone else would come in? Dee would be back soon. Virgil wouldn’t be in until later and – where was Roman? The door creaked open. Roman entered, and Logan’s mind fell silent.

“Did you ever text Dee to ask when he’d be back?” He asked with a smirk, as if he already knew that Logan had forgotten to do so.

“I forgot to do so.” He answered. Roman’s smirk only widened.

“I knew it. Can you do that now?”

“Sure…” Logan whipped out his phone and, to his surprise, found a text from Dee already there.

_If convenient for you, I’ll be back in tomorrow. If inconvenient for you, I’ll be back in tomorrow anyway. We need to talk. _

It read well enough, but something seemed eerie. That Dee had demanded an early return? That he didn’t care what Logan said (though, with the thought that Dee had never cared for what Logan would say, that became less ominous)? That he didn’t elaborate on what he needed? Question after question rang through Logan’s head.

“He said he’s coming in tomorrow and that I can’t stop him.” Logan said monotonously.

“Oh!” Roman said gleefully with a new shine and brightness to his voice. “Good to know!” He spoke with a more forced flatness, before leaving Logan’s office. When he heard the door click behind him, he pulled out his own phone and starting tapping out messages to Virgil and Marilyn.

_Dee’s coming back tomorrow. Logan’s going to find out._

He couldn’t help it, but the prospect of Logan finally learning about Jodie’s true nature brought a joy to Roman that could only be bested by… Logan himself.

Dee woke up in the early afternoon. The sun shone high in the sky and people outside went about their life, chatting to each other and texting on their phones, hauling shopping bags across the road in the heat. He rolled out of bed and immediately went to the freezer for some ice cubes. As he made iced coffee, he checked his phone. Looking at the vaguely-threatening text he’d sent Logan just hours before, he sighed.

“God, I’m so annoying when I’m tired.” He muttered. Truthfully, he had no memory of sending it. That he sent it in a half-awake daze seemed to be the only explanation. If he really planned on going into work tomorrow, he wouldn’t be able to sleep in anymore. He clicked his fingers next to his right ear. Nothing but a shrill ringing. He hurt. Although he knew that if Jodie had done it instead of him then the consequences would only have been worse, he also knew that he shouldn’t have done quite what he did. Taking her job had indeed saved Logan’s life, but he started thinking if it had been worth it. He sipped his coffee and glared out the window.

“Some people will do anything for that job.” He said through gritted teeth. Once he’d finished his coffee, he ate the ice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's all, thank you for reading! Feel free to leave any feedback, and I'll see you next Thursday! :D


	27. Explanation.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dee has a lot of explaining to do, but not without first confronting the one behind the scenes of suffering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter's a couple hours later than usual djalkjla I wanted it to be a bit longer than last week's but still!! I hope you enjoy!

The rest of the day came and went by as normal for the prison guards. Often, however, one would look over to Tony’s cell, now empty, and be burdened by a crushing guilt for seeing his absence. A smile would crumble or a joyous moment would fade into despondence, but the day eventually came to an end.

As the day came to a close, the sun shone over the hills and houses around Roman and Logan’s house, the light shattering and scattering into all shades of orange, pink, spots of red, and eventually falling into a blue. Logan leant against the windowsill, taking it all in. Seeing how his eyes glistened at all the colours, Roman smiled softly. He took his hand in his own, surprising Logan at first, before he melted and leant into him, resting his head against his chest. Roman rubbed the back of Logan’s hand with his thumb, tracing circles over and over. While they were being close, the day closed.

At the crack of dawn, Dee threw slammed shut his car door. He eyed the only other car around the building and recognised it as Jodie’s. He stormed through the doors, hoping angrily that he would catch her before she left.

“Where is she?” He hissed as he entered the corridor. Fuming though he was, he kept his voice low. His eyes darted to every corner, everywhere she could be hiding, before skipping between Remus and Patton. When he saw Tony’s cell empty, he fluttered for a moment, but still didn’t let himself falter. Remus and Patton both pointed to Logan’s office frantically. Dee took a deep breath before racing to the door. He threw it open and indeed, she was there: stood by the calendar, a sickly sweet smile on her made-up face, as she delicately circled October 28th in red. Seeing him so suddenly, she stumbled, but recomposed herself before widening her grin.

“Look who it is,” she taunted, “it’s the _failure_.”

“Oh look,” Dee mimicked, “it’s the one who couldn’t even try! What kind of coward even are you? What, did you know you wouldn’t even get half as far as I did? Were you scared you weren’t going to get away with it? I’ll take your concession as confession that you know you’ll never even be _comparable_ to them. Roman and Logan are far more than you’ll ever be.” Jodie giggled, tossed her hair back, and cleared he throat as she circled Dee like a vulture, watching him clench and unclench his fists, like shaking the can before it explodes.

“I just thought it would be funny to see how you’d fair…” She stopped behind him, grabbed his shoulders, and whispered into his right ear. “Not that well, clearly.” Dee barely heard her. She kept whispering; he felt her breath on his skin and practically felt her face twisting into her malevolent grin, but no other words were heard. In a surge of rage, he reached behind him, clawed at her hair as he wrapped his hands around her head. The next thing he saw was Jodie sprawled on the floor, Logan’s desk smashed beneath her. Dee heard her cries of pain.

“Are you going to tell him, or should I?” He hissed, crouching by her side. She scrambled to her knees and met his eyes.

“Say a word to him and I’ll get you fired. And I’ll hurt you! I swear by it you son of a bitch you don’t know what you’re dealing with!”

“You know, there comes a point for everyone where they really just don’t care anymore. Do to me what you will, but you can’t hurt me.”

“I can hurt the people you care about!” She cried, stumbling to her feet as Dee graciously rose to match. He smirked as she tripped over the debris. Bits of wood strewn all over, stray papers, but nothing too beyond repair – or replacement.

“Good luck finding them.” Dee said sombrely. He cleared his throat and continued. “Look, you’ve pushed Marilyn and Virgil to their breaking points, you make me hurt Logan and Roman and you know how _that_ turned out. I _will_ tell Logan everything you’ve done and what you’ve wanted to do, you _will_ either be fired on the spot or you _will_ resign, do you hear me?” Jodie lowered her eyes and dusted herself down. She sighed, nodded and left. Dee followed her out the office and watched her try to stay composed. The door outside slammed so hard behind her that it didn’t even stay closed. He smiled and leant against the doorframe, letting his head tilt back. He felt tears welling up behind his eyelids. Relieved though he was, he had a reputation to keep. He forced them down, then retreated back into Logan’s office; he had a newly-found reassembly task on his hands.

Roman felt around the bed for Logan’s warmth. The sun was far past the break of dawn, and Logan was nowhere to be found. Roman sat up. Logan wasn’t even anywhere to be _seen_. He got dressed hastily, trying to do buttons with his shaking hands and zips with twitching fingers. He flew down the stairs so quickly he practically fell, when he was met with a pleasant fragrance. He followed it to the kitchen where Logan was cooking, mixing substance after substance together. He hadn’t even noticed Roman until he turned around to plate what Roman knew well to be a pancake.

“You’re up!” Logan smiled, “I made crêpes!” He let it pour onto a plate next to a wedge of lemon. He gestured for Roman to sit.

“You seem happy.” Roman observed. He tried to stifle his elation; knowing that Dee would be waiting and Logan would hear everything, that things would start to look up, _and_ that he had a breakfast to enjoy? Everything might be okay, he thought.

“You’ve been so good to me recently, I wanted to do something nice for you, too!” He grinned brightly, his eyes shining like they hadn’t in so long. Logan plated the last crêpes, dividing them equally, before they sat together and ate.

“Did you get up early to do this?” Roman asked. Logan nodded vehemently. He seemed to glow more and more by the second. Roman only hoped that he wouldn’t fade again.

Driving to work was uneventful if not pleasant. With Logan being in such a light mood, Roman found it hard not to be, too. When they arrived and Roman parked the car, Logan spotted the only other one in the lot and stopped.

“When Dee said he’d be here today, I didn’t think he’d be here this early.” He commented. Despite Logan’s monotonous words, Roman saw the car and practically felt his heart leap.

“He must _really_ want to talk to you.” Roman pushed, already at the door with his hand about to open it. Logan followed painfully slowly. When they finally entered, the corridor was empty. Roman didn’t know what he had expected: Dee sat in the middle ready to take Logan by the arm and explain it all? To have him suddenly pounce on them in tears and explain through sobs everything they’ve been through? For him to have actually burst through the door as soon as they got out the car in a rage and scream at Logan for not knowing? Either way, a quiet tapping and shoving sound from the office was simultaneously underwhelming and unnerving. Roman looked to Patton, who nodded subtly. Roman took Logan’s hand and dragged him to the office. The door was open, and Dee was kneeling by one of its corners, twisting at some screws.

“Are you trying to break my desk?” Logan scoffed.

“I’ve actually already broken it and now I’m trying to fix it but go off.” Dee replied audaciously. Then, he turned sullen and darkly serious. “We need to talk. Sit down. Roman can stay because if you don’t believe me, I’m sure you’ll believe your lover boy. Sit.” He gestured towards the chair, and Logan followed. Dee glared at Roman, backing him into the corner.

“I hope you can explain—” Logan started before being interrupted by Dee.

“Just _let me_ explain, okay?” He sighed and pressed his fingertips to his temple. “I don’t expect you to forgive me for what I did to you and Roman. I don’t expect you to forgive me under the guise of ‘I could have been worse’ but I do expect you to understand that I saved your lives.”

“How did you—”

“Oh my god shut the fuck up and let me say what I need to say, PLEASE!” Logan looked to the corner, and saw Roman smirk – at Dee. Logan closed his mouth. Dee continued. “You know there are a lot of fucked up people who would do anything for your job, right? Military glorifier type people who would give anything to kill someone all righteously and be applauded for it. Jodie from the night staff is one of those types of people. I don’t know what got it in her head that just… That ‘getting rid of you’ would mean she would get your job, but here we are. She came to me about it and I said I would do it for her and like _I_ knew that I wouldn’t try to kill you and now you do too! Got it?” A silence filled the room, screaming in Logan’s mind. He paused. Roman cleared his throat.

“What else?” He prompted.

“Oh! She’s also a bitch to, like, everyone she’s worked with ever. She’s transphobic to Virgil and Marilyn and homophobic to Roman and about you, too. She also knows I’m here telling you all this so if I were you I’d make the documents giving her an official firing now.”

“So,” Logan started, “Jodie wanted my job and was… She… She was going to kill me for it?”

“Yeah pretty much. I know what I did was shitty but I also saved your life and what was my thanks? Brain damage.” Dee laughed, but Logan squirmed. “Don’t be sorry about that. I deserved it, and I’m sorry. I just want you now to fire Jodie because this is something much bigger than just you. It’s Roman, Virgil, and Marilyn too.” Logan’s eyes swept the room to Roman.

“Is all this true?” He asked with a wavering voice. Roman nodded. Logan looked down and ran his fingers over his desk. It shook slightly. “Also, what did you do to my desk?”

“I flipped Jodie into it because she was being a bitch but in my defence I bet it would have looked cool if you’d watched. Good luck firing her!” And with that, he sauntered out the room gleefully, practically skipping. Roman looked at Logan. His eyes were still facing the floor.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what she was like before. I could have prevented so much hurting.” Said Roman, slowly approaching Logan.

“No, you’re not the one to be sorry,” Logan replied, at last meeting Roman’s gaze, “_she_ could have prevented so much hurting. Please, excuse me; I have things to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, please feel free to leave any feedback, it's greatly appreciated! :D


	28. Careful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Logan found out about Jodie's nefarious plan, he immediately goes about ensuring they never have to deal with her again. However, after Patton's ominous warning, he starts questioning his own, and Roman's, safety until he finds an unexpected solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is when I hit 100 pages on the word document and tbh?? I didn't think I'd get this far. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy! :D

Virgil came in at around midday, having the longer and later shift. His hands shook as he fumbled for the car keys. Double-checking the locks, he took a deep breath and approached the door that would enter the corridor. He dreaded to think what was occurring inside: had Dee confronted Jodie in time, or had Logan and Roman walked in on them to create a conglomeration of shouting and confrontation? Had Logan believed Dee and proceeded to go through with the firing, or did he accuse him of lying resulting in Dee getting ever angrier only for Virgil to walk in on him as he exploded?

Virgil opened the door. All was quiet – at least more so than he was expecting. Tony’s cell was still empty. Even though several days had passed, Virgil always looked. He never quite knew what to expect. Still, every time, he felt a twinge of sorrow for what he had done. He looked to the right, and saw Patton in the corner of his own cell. He seemed distracted, looking at something on his wall. As a small smile creeped on Patton’s face as his eyes faded away from his surroundings and into his own world, Virgil’s own eyes felt damp. Light refracted all around him as tears fell. October 28th haunted him. He heard a small voice from Logan’s office. While he debated whether or not to see if everything was okay, Dee sauntered out from the mile, his eyes narrow and brow furrowed. Snapping his neck dramatically, his eyes pierced through Virgil, and he smirked. The only sound was that of Logan’s voice echoing through the corridor.

“What is he talking about?” Virgil asked Dee, his voice hushed, cocking his head towards Logan.

“I should hope he’s firing Jodie. I told him everything about her so if he isn’t then maybe I fucked him up a bit too much.” Dee laughed.

“Well, I think you fucked him up plenty anyway.” Virgil spat. Despite his watery eyes, Virgil’s fiery glare made Dee hold his tongue. “What were you doing around the mile?”

“I was just checking on Tony. When did they take him away?”

“Just last night, why?”

“That’s quite late. They usually only take a day.”

“It’s whatever,” Virgil grew impatient, “go check on Logan for me, please?” Dee approached Logan’s door, but he didn’t knock. He pressed his ear against the wall for a moment.

“I don’t think Jodie’s happy about this…” He muttered.

“How can you tell?” Virgil asked.

“I can distinctly hear her shouting at Logan through the phone saying how she’s ‘going to kill that son of a bitch’ which, if she means me, then good luck I guess, and if she means Logan, then also good luck I guess. Then again, she could mean anyone!” He smiled ominously at Virgil and let his eyes trail over to Patton, then Remus.

“Can you please just take _anything_ seriously?” Virgil begged angrily. Suddenly, Dee scuttled away from the wall. He raced to the supply closet to grab a mop just in time to appear busy by the time the door opened. Logan walked out, Roman following closely behind him.

“I don’t understand why she’d get so mad. You’re giving her the extra week of pay she needs even though she doesn’t have to come in! It doesn’t get fairer than that!” Roman spluttered, his hands gesturing all over the place. Logan pressed his glasses to his face.

“It’s not about the money with her, though, is it?” Remus interjected. He wasn’t visible for any of them. Leaning to the side, Roman saw him rocking back and forth in the corner with his tongue hanging out like a dog. His eyes were not vacant. He looked aware of himself, but not caring; he was too used to the unending cycle of nothing to even find sadness. He said nothing else. The room filled with silence until Patton spoke.

“You all need to be very careful.” He said. The lights flickered.

For Roman and Logan, the work day was complete. Roman approached Logan’s office and entered without knocking. Logan didn’t comment at all, just kept reading through the endless files. When he looked up and saw Roman ready to go home, everything about him stopped. He didn’t blink, he stopped reading, and he paused every movement. Just as Roman opened his mouth to speak, he resumed.

“I don’t want to go home today, and I can’t let you go without me.” He spoke steadily.

“Why not?” Although he had an inkling, he thought that Logan wouldn’t let the past trouble him so much given how every other time they’d gone home, it had been a warm and welcome invitation back to being themselves.

“Patton said we all need to be careful. I just… I really don’t feel safe going home today.” He looked at Roman, his eyes dark and wide, “I hope you understand why I’m hesitant to let you go by yourself, too.”

“Yeah,” Roman sighed, “I understand. I just don’t know where else you think we can go?” At that moment, Virgil walked by, his hand raised as if he were prepared to knock. Roman and Logan looked at him, and then each other. Looking back at Virgil, who grew paler by the minute, Logan said,

“Do you recall when I asked you if you were interested in being a friend of ours and that we were to hang out, until Dee decided that he had better plans for my time instead?”

“Yeah, it was only like a couple of weeks ago…?” Virgil’s voice shook. His hands were almost vibrating.

“Do you have plans for tonight?”

“I’ve never had a plan in my life.”

“Excellent. If it’s alright by you, Roman and I will be staying with you tonight.” To Roman’s surprise, and despite Logan being so presumptuous, Virgil smiled, and nodded his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, feel free to leave any feedback, it's greatly appreciated! :D


	29. Virgil's House!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Logan expresses concern for what might happen if they went home, he and Roman spend the night at Virgil's house, revelling in the opportunity to find out more about the worker they want as their friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who got his act together and wrote a chapter finally more than 500 words? Me. I hope you all enjoy!! :D

It had been so long since either Roman or Logan had had to take the back seats that the entire ordeal of trying to choose who would ride at the front with Virgil and who would have to hug their knees at the back, alone, took almost as long as the drive itself.

“I’m taller than you so it’d be more uncomfortable for me to sit there.” Logan reasoned.

“Yes but you don’t understand the fact that I simply do not want to be there.” Roman retorted. Virgil stood to the side, letting them hurl their points at each other like young boys. Eventually, Logan eyed their own car just behind Roman. Feeling himself blushing, and knowing Roman could see it too, he stopped.

“Why don’t we just drive our own car and follow Virgil’s?” He said in a voice full of shame. Roman looked behind him at their own car and then back to Logan, and then turned to look at Virgil. In just a few seconds, Roman had turned just as red as Logan.

“Yeah,” he spluttered like a fool, “sounds good.”

Driving to Virgil’s house took over twice as long as the drive home, but Roman and Logan didn’t mind: the quiet roads meant they never really lost sight of him and how the scenery changed from areas of industry to greenery wasn’t completely foreign to them, but certainly more pleasing to the eye. Eventually, the road turned to a dusty and rocky path lined with hedges and fences showcasing miles and miles of farm and field. Although the sun wasn’t quite setting – the sky was blue and the earth still light and bright – it hung low, barely above the trees, creating speckles of light on the ground around the shadows. Some leaves had already started to drop away from the branches, but many still stayed intact. When, eventually, Virgil stopped just outside a brick cottage. Logan observed how all the curtains were tightly closed around the windows and the chimney had no smoke around it, and he doubted it had for a while. He and Roman hopped out the car as Virgil approached with a hesitant smile.

“I should warn you,” he warned warningly, “the crows might wake you up in the morning and if they do, just leave them be and in a few minutes they’ll be quiet again.” Roman looked towards the surrounding trees, the acres of forest surrounding them.

“Do you feed them?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Of course!” Virgil’s smile widened and seemed less nervous. He then looked at Logan expectantly.

“They’re very intelligent; if they saw someone attack you then they’d most definitely fight back for you.”

“Yeah, and they do much more! Come inside and see.” Virgil gestured, leading them inside. He opened the door, a large wooden antique of a door, and showed them in. On every shelf sat a piece of trash: a ball of silver foil, a blue plastic spoon, a pink child’s charm bracelet, and a myriad of other shiny or colourful trinkets scattered across surfaces. Roman looked over to Logan, anxiously expecting a look of confusion at best, or poorly-hidden disgust at worst.

“They bring all this to you?” Logan asked, his eyes wide and bright, much like his smile.

“Well, yeah…” Virgil hugged his arms across his torso. “Every time I throw something away, they bring it back to me, so please don’t think I haven’t tried to get rid of it –”

“Why on earth would you _want_ to?” Logan’s voice filled with wonder as his hands shook, his eyes flicked between every piece of glass, metal, and plastic gently placed around Virgil’s living room. Roman silently admired the room, too: Virgil had crafted some kind of wind-chime out of the more dangly gifts like chains and straws hung by the window, and flatter pieces like ribbons and small fabric had been neatly framed and hung above the seats. Truly, a lot of care had been taken to preserve and showcase all the birds’ gifts.

“This is so cool…” Roman muttered under his breath. Virgil glanced over and smiled, shyly, facing down.

“Crows have a tendency to form something of a symbiotic relationship with humans, but it really seems more like a friendship!” Logan was practically vibrating. “Don’t you think it’s sweet how they see pretty colourful things and the first thing they think is to bring them to the person who feeds them?” Virgil looked up and allowed what remained of the sun to shine on his face, lighting up his radiant smile. Logan’s hand reached out towards a pile of pebbles shaped into a spiral in the middle of a coffee table, but he didn’t touch; his face simply flushed with wonder. Roman watched him, watching how he kept his distance, watching how his eyes fluttered and pupils dilated. He felt his heart beat faster, and he had no idea how long he’d been smiling, but his face started to hurt.

“Oh!” Virgil exclaimed. “Would either of you like some tea?”

Roman set his teacup on the counter, still in awe of the shocking contrast between Virgil’s eclectic living room and his kitchen: where in his living room would be frames of trash collected by the crows, in his kitchen hung the most pristine and professional equipment Roman (and even Logan) had ever seen, let alone for a domestic kitchen. Rather than dim lighting from lamps and whatever sunlight managed to permeate the curtains, his kitchen had bright, blazing lights fixed to his ceiling. At midnight, Virgil’s kitchen would be brighter than his living room in the middle of the day. Yet, there was still a distinct home in the professionalism. While the counters, floors, and walls were strictly black and white, personal touches like an aloe plant on the windowsill above the sink, coupled with his own trough of herbs from rosemary to coriander, _and_ sketches and illustrations of crows spread out over the wall all made the room together into a kitchen for a master who could only be Virgil. Roman’s teacup appeared to be hand-painted with a mushroom. Logan’s had a cat, and Virgil’s a frog.

“What time do you two normally eat?” Virgil asked. Roman looked over at Logan, smirking, and watched his face flush as he sipped the last of his tea.

“Tell him, Logan.” Roman snickered. Logan’s lips pursed in some blend of frustration and embarrassment.

“I’ve never heard of a regular eating pattern in my life.” Logan answered. Virgil blinked rapidly.

“Really? That’s surprising…” Virgil’s voice trailed off as he went to make more tea. Roman and Logan waited. Several seconds passed.

“How is it surprising?” Logan asked impatiently.

“Oh right! It’s just, you’re always just so strictly organised at work – for the most part, at least – and nothing ever happens late. It’s always so regular, I guess. That you don’t carry that with you at home is weird.”

“Oh,” Logan sighed, “that’s a fair point.” While Virgil’s back was turned, Roman took Logan’s hand in his own and squeezed. Of course, Logan smiled.

Logan and Roman watched Virgil curiously as he prepared their food.

“It’s called kibbeh!” He explained enthusiastically, “I made some the other day and froze them, and they’re easy enough to cook!” He slammed the oven door shut as he yanked open the fridge door and collected more greens than the two could count. He wielded his knife and got set to work.

“What’s a kibbeh?” Logan asked.

“A traditional Syrian dish made with onions, meat, and some cool spices – I think you’ll like it! My grandma taught me how to make them.”

“Is she Syrian?” Roman asked.

“Yep! And it was her hundredth birthday last month!” Virgil smiled. Not only did he not mind Roman and Logan’s gentle interrogation, but he seemed to revel in it. He seemed like a different man to the anxious guard at the prison. Within seconds, he’d prepared an entire lettuce and thrown it into a large bowl.

“Happy birthday to her!”

“What’s her name?”

“Gayatri, and I really love her. When I…” He paused for a moment. “When I told my parents about me being trans and they tried to kick me out, she rang them all furious saying how Allah loves me for me. Then she called me specifically to tell me that she loves me and that she’s proud of me.” His chopping had slowed to a stop, he wiped his face, but he smiled. Roman, too, felt his eyes welling up.

“That’s really beautiful.” He said. Virgil cleared his throat and started slicing at the rest of the vegetables twice as fast.

“Not to be an emotional whore or anything but she means the world to me.” Within the time it took him to utter just that, he’d completed the salad. The kibbeh were done.

“They smell _really_ good.” Logan said, peering to get a better look. Roman mirrored him and, though they looked simple (plain, even), they definitely made the two realise how hungry they were. Virgil reached into a cabinet to the side of the oven and pulled out three plates. He also pulled out a loaf of home-baked bread from the breadbin and a dish of butter.

“Help yourselves.” He smiled.

Much later, the three sat in the living room. Virgil had explained that, given his home having only one bedroom, Roman and Logan would have to sleep on the sofa-bed. When he apologised so profusely, they laughed.

“We’re grateful you let us come over at all, given the short notice.”

“You’ve already gone above and beyond for us.”

“Ah but consider!” Virgil argued, “I should go even further beyond!”

“NO!” The two exclaimed, eliciting laughter from all three. The atmosphere felt light while the sky fluttered into darkness.

“Can I ask about how you two met?” Virgil asked once the giggling had died down. Logan and Roman looked at each other before the former lowered his gaze.

“I worked at a café a while ago,” Roman explained, smiling as Logan grew red, “and every Saturday, Logan would come in to order one black coffee to go, and leave.”

“Very pertinent of you.” Virgil commented.

“He’d always leave a great tip so we all liked him! One day, I noticed him wearing a watch with a rainbow strap so obviously my immediate thought was gay pride!”

“I tried to be subtle about my pride…” Logan reminisced.

“Why?” Virgil asked. “You deserve to feel proud and exist loudly.”

“I don’t know if we all forgot I was telling a story or what…?” Roman interjected. They all laughed again. Roman noticed, as he continued their story, that Logan’s eyes became soft as he thought about his past. For once, he seemed so happy to dwell there.

“Sorry, lover,” he said, “Carry on.”

The two settled into bed. It was lumpy and hard and thin, but that didn’t matter. Although they couldn’t see anything, least of all each other, Logan faced Roman and fell in love again.

“I love you,” Logan whispered into the darkness. He felt for him, reaching around among the bedsheets trying to find Roman.

“I love you, too.” Roman replied, meeting Logan in the middle of the mattress. Logan wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close, holding him tight. Roman rested his head within Logan’s neck, gently kissing his skin.

“You won’t forget that I love you, will you?”

“So long as we live, I could never forget.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all need to know that I was yearning so bad when I wrote that last paragraph and tbh?? It shows. Feel free to leave any feedback, anything is really appreciated! :D


	30. Trying to Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after they arrive at his house, Roman and Logan start to learn more about Virgil and how he landed in his job. When the three go to work, Logan recalls how he fired Jodie and, as such, remembers his responsibily as the boss to recruit someone new, but someone has other ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last week I jokingly wrote the phrase 'I should warn you he warned warningly' because I didn't know what else to say and was going to change it but then I forgot so we now have the worst phrase to ever be written in a story ever award and it goes to that.  
For this chapter, a bit of background knowledge on The Standford Prison Experiment might come in handy, but it really isn't required. I tried to get the essence of it without it sounding too much like exposition (let me know if it does though dskljlask)  
In any case, I hope you enjoy!

Virgil’s warning manifested into a promise by daybreak. As soon as the sun had dared show itself, Roman awoke to the sound of incessant caws. The room was lit, barely, but just enough for him to make out silhouettes around him if he strained his eyes. He was no longer holding Logan, much to his heart’s disdain. He rolled over and took extra care not to tug at the sheets when he could help it, reaching for his phone to check the time, while the crows still kept cawing. It had barely passed six in the morning. The bed sheets seemed to cling to his skin, suffocating him in their way. Too hot. The cawing clawed at his brain. Thumping and shuffling from outside the room. A door slammed and the caws only got louder – how was Logan sleeping through this? Roman kicked the covers off him, and lowered his breathing. The room became clearer, blurred shadows became sharp outlines. He was still too hot and the caws too loud. He lay flat, gripping at the mattress as he clenched his fists. His nails dug into his palms. Logan rolled over, now to face Roman. Bathed in the blue light of early morning, he rubbed his eyes until, slowly, they opened. He blinked heavily. When he saw Roman, he melted into a gentle smile.

“You seem upset.” He noted as his smile died down into a frown.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry.” Roman lied. Even he could see Logan trying not to laugh.

“Is it the crows?” Roman nodded. “It’ll be over soon; Virgil just needs to feed them.”

“I know, I know.”

“Still. It’s annoying.” Logan commented, rubbing his eyes again. He yawned and stared up at the ceiling. The caws died down. Finally, a deep thud and footsteps sounded throughout the room before a general quiet settled once more. Roman gazed at Logan. Although he faced him, too, it wasn’t Roman’s eyes that he was looking at – rather, just barely below. Logan’s own lips parted slightly. Roman leant in to kiss him. He felt him smiling just like how he did the first time (and, so far, every time after it, too).

Surprising Roman and Logan both, Virgil was an early riser; though they had thought he’d gone immediately back to sleep after feeding the crows, he had gotten dressed and made a breakfast ready by seven. Despite his best efforts to be quiet, Virgil making noise was inevitable and disturbing now that the two slept so lightly. They got up and into the kitchen, where Virgil was stood by the oven with three plates on the counter. As soon as they entered, a mellow savoury aroma surrounded them, lighting up their eyes.

“What are you making?” Logan asked, his fingers twitching. Virgil smiled, glancing at the oven.

“Have you heard of manakish?” He asked. Logan shook his head.

“I have!” Roman exclaimed excitedly, bouncing on his feet.

“You haven’t, Logan?” Virgil asked. Logan turned red. However much he wanted to look at Virgil, his eyes refused to move from the floor.

“It’s a Middle Eastern recipe, isn’t it?” Roman stepped closer to Logan and wrapped an arm around his back. Virgil nodded.

“Yep, my grandma taught it to me. I don’t think it’s Syrian specifically, but it tastes closer to home than what you white people make.” He smiled at Logan, who went from a pale paper shade to a deep red. Like a cherry, but with privilege.

“What _is_ it?”

“Imagine like a pizza, I guess? It uses a similar dough and it has cheese but this one doesn’t use tomatoes, and there are a lot of variations. I usually make a fuck load of dough at the weekend and save it for lunch or midnight snacks, but it’s a special occasion!”

“It smells _really_ good.” Roman said. Logan nodded silently but vigorously. Virgil donned his oven gloves and threw the door open as he brought out the tray on which the manakish rested. The melted halloumi could almost be heard sizzling on the doughy base, which glowed so golden that sunflowers and buttercups could turn away in shame. Most powerful, however, was the smell: a pungent and aromatic blend of smokiness and nuttiness drifted around the room. Their mouths all watered before it had even been divided onto their plates. Virgil grabbed a pizza cutter and began slicing freely.

“Technically, I don’t think I’m supposed to use this to cut it – don’t tell my grandma.” He said with a smirk and a wink. He handed the two their plates, each with a third of the manakish. Logan observed it before eating but couldn’t identify much of what was on it. When he ate it, however, the flavours burst onto his tongue. They were completely new to him, but there was definitely a hint of garlic, some mint, but so many others he had no idea how to even think of it.

“This is so good.” He whispered, more at the food itself than Virgil. They all ate silently but all thinking the exact same thing as Logan.

All three had time to spare before having to leave for work. They sat in the living room, with deceivingly dusk-like lighting with the drawn curtains, and sipped on some tea.

“So, Virgil,” Logan asked, resting his teacup on his knee, “can I ask what made you want a job as a prison guard?” Virgil’s hands shook, almost spilling his tea, and suddenly he returned to being a deer in the headlights.

“Woah,” Roman steadied his hands, “are you okay?”

“I’m so sorry,” Logan flushed, “I didn’t mean for… For this?”

“No it’s alright,” Virgil took a deep breath and clutched at his hands, “I just… It’s a weird story.”

“Trust me, I’ve heard worse.”

“You know, I always just… I wanted to help people. I’ve never ever agreed with the death penalty, of course I don’t – I’m literally descended from refugees _of course_ I think it’s fucked up you know?”

“Virgil, nobody here is judging you.” Logan said firmly. Virgil loosened his grip. Blood finally reached his hands.

“I just thought maybe I could help. I thought I could change the system a little bit to make it better for people. I hate it every time we have to do our real jobs but I really do try to make everything before that as good as I can.”

“I think that’s how they get us. They make it so bad that we go into it wanting to make a change and it isn’t until it’s too late that we realize that the system changes us before _we_ can change _it_.”

“That’s how it is for _most_ of us,” Roman interjected in a bitter tone, “but let’s not pretend that that’s how it is for everyone. People like Dee – well, actually, who even knows anything about him anymore – but definitely people like Jodie just like seeing people suffer.” Logan leant forward and pressed his fingertips together, peering over his glasses at the two of them.

“I presume you’ve both heard of the Stanford Prison Experiment?” He asked. Roman nodded, as expected, but Virgil scoffed disdainfully.

“I hate that experiment. How can someone say that people in power always turn abusive when left unchecked? I think it just reflects badly on those volunteers. I mean, just look at you!” He gestured towards Logan. “You’re not like that at all!” Logan glanced at Roman. With a subtle nod of approval, Logan let himself continue.

“I’d agree with you. That the volunteers acting as guards became so violent and abusive does indeed reflect badly on them more than anything. However, it’s also important to consider that they were all in good mental health before the experiment took place, and actually not all of them became so aggressive. The point was to show that the types of people to work in positions of such power, the same people who volunteered for the experiment, are also the same to turn into that type of person. The job of a prison guard, especially one on death row like us, attracts the type of people who become abusive towards the prisoners because they’re attracted to the notion of absolute power.”

“I can’t say I’m not interested, but what was your point?” Virgil asked once Logan had concluded. Blushing, he resumed.

“Oh yeah sorry! My point, before I got distracted, was that there are more people like Jodie in this field than there are us. We cannot expect ourselves to change that just by working here, but don’t you think that it makes a difference to our prison? I mean, everyone came in expecting the kind of stuff you saw during the experiment, and we did what we could to treat them kindly – or at the very least, with humanity. Virgil, don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re not doing good.”

“It doesn’t mean shit if we still kill them at the end anyway.” Roman muttered below his breath, sipping his tea scornfully.

At the prison, all was quiet, despite Dee being present and stewing in a rage. It was very impertinent of Logan to be late, more so to only tell him last minute, and beyond that to let Roman be late with him. Albeit only by an hour, and knowing that he would adjust wages accordingly, Dee stalked around the corridor. He only became slightly less tempered by the sight of Tony’s empty cell. All the times that Tony had punched and taunted him seemed so important now.

“Can I ask you two a question?” He turned, and Patton and Remus’s heads stuck out between their bars.

“You just did.” Patton smiled with a glisten in his eye that most others had lost by now. Remus made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a screech. Dee took their answers as yes.

“Are you guilty of what you were charged with?” While there was a general quiet before, now there was an awful awkwardness. The air seemed to turn stuffy and heavy and clinging to Dee’s skin.

“I am, but I have no regrets.” Remus said after a bit.

“What did you do?”

“I killed three guys but in my defence? They were Nazis. Of all the bad things I’ve done, I’m glad that this was the one that got put on record.” He grinned with pride, and all eyes turned to Patton.

“I’m not.” He said sadly. “It doesn’t matter if you believe me anymore, because you’re the only ones who would. I just wanted to _help_!”

“What do you mean?” Dee asked, eyes wide with something other than morbid curiosity. Patton looked at Remus, who only looked on blankly.

“I went over when I heard something happening and I thought I could help them but it was too late – there comes a point where not even I can help anymore, you know?” His voice shook and his hands shivered. Everything about him became jittery. Two sides of his mind battled, one for secrecy and one for honesty. “I just wanted to _help_!” At that moment, miraculously, the entryway door opened and in stumbled Roman, Logan, and Virgil.

“I won!” Roman exclaimed as he stood up straight and dusted himself off.

“Cheater!” Logan pointed at Roman, who smirked smugly, and gasped for breath.

“One thing we can all agree on is that Virgil lost.”

“In my defence, I haven’t run anywhere, let alone in a race… Ever.” Virgil leant against and slid down the wall, clutching his sides. “And do you guys even know what binding does to your lungs?” Remus managed to catch Dee’s eye, and noticed the fed-up daze behind them.

“It really comes to something when Dee is the most composed of you guys.” He commented dully. The three looked at him; Virgil’s arms crossed, Logan looked down, and Roman blushed. Dee hardened his gaze.

“I should probably start advertising for someone to take Jodie’s job…” Logan muttered. As he made his way to his office, the other two scattered to various positions and, within a few seconds, Dee and Logan were alone.

“Wait,” Dee stopped Logan as he put his hand on the door, “I’m taking Jodie’s position for now. Marilyn and I work okay together and it’s a bad idea to have so few people on at night when there’s so many of us during the day.”

“Are you sure that’s alright?”

“I didn’t ask you. I told you.” Logan stopped and considered. He noticed Dee’s unblinking eyes, clenched fists, and wide stance.

“Come in with me and we’ll take a look.” Dee scampered like a scared dog into the office. Logan pulled the door shut. It clicked as it closed. The corridor fell silent, save for the gentle hum of electricity.

“Remus?” Patton called. “Come here, and be quick. I need to tell you something.”

“Why can’t you just tell me?”

“I don’t want to be too loud…” Remus squeezed through the bars of his cell and flew to Patton’s, able to get in with much more ease.

“What do you need?” He whispered. Patton leaned into Remus’s ear.

“Dee if going to be given night shifts, basically working Jodie’s hours. Tonight, we need to be careful, and you need to trust me.”

“I hear you.” With that, Remus wasted no time in returning to his cell, hopping from one wall to the next, and finally diving between his bars. He looked back towards Patton, he sat in the corner, on the floor, his hands held flat together in a prayer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Feel free to leave any feedback and criticisms, it's all greatly appreciated. Thank you! :D


	31. Nothing but Trouble.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course, Jodie wouldn't take the loss of her job very well, and Dee has the misfortunate of being at the receiving end of her wrath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence.  
Mandatory celebration: this chapter is where we hit 50k!

When the night came, the prison came to a standstill. Dee stood in the centre of the corridor as stoically as he could manage, his thoughts turning to any higher power that might save him. Remus stared at him. He sat on his bed in a wide stance. His legs spread, his elbows each rested on a knee, and his hands met in the middle. His head leaning forward, his eyes bulging and round, he never moved his stare away from Dee. Dee’s chest rose and fell quickly and heavily, as if he needed double the air he used to. Patton loitered around the front of his cell around the bars, wrapping his legs around each pole, his arms hung between the gaps, and his head poking through another. Longingly, he eyed Remus. Dee bounced on his heels. Levelling his breathing as best he could, he met his hands together, balled them into fists, and rubbed them against each other so hard that his skin tore away. It didn’t matter. It wouldn’t compare. Electricity hummed through the corridor. Nobody knew if it was better to silence. Neither Remus nor Patton were breathing well, but the stench of old murky rainwater from neglected pipes seemed stronger than ever. Suddenly, the entry door flung open and a gargantuan tower of toxic smiles. Clicking of heels on the concrete floor.

“You know you can’t just do things without consequences.” A sweetly charming and eerily serpentine voice.

“Consequences be damned. You barely got what you deserve, bitch.” A laugh, a flash, a slash. Remus jumped up and bounded to the bars, Patton threw up a hand. Remus glared at him, his face twisting into a sharp dagger. Dee didn’t even yell or cry for help. Patton silently screamed. The hum stopped. The lights went out. She laughed. Click of heels, a slammed door, and finally the shouts.

“Bring him! Bring him to me! _PLEASE_!” Patton screamed, getting to his knees, reaching out as far as he could. Remus squeezed. Pushed as hard as he could. He fell through the bars. Tripped to Dee’s body. Tried to ignore the sticky oozes. Tried to ignore the weight. Just drag. Patton strained. Limp. Patton grabbed him. Eyes closed, he focused. Only the lights came back. He tried harder.

“Patton, you’re going to hurt yourself.” An hour had passed. Patton hadn’t stopped.

“Can’t be worse than him.” Patton sobbed, clutching him limply.

“If Marilyn sees you like this she’s going to presume the worst. Patton, _please_.” Patton stopped. He looked at Remus with heavy, red, squinted eyes.

“Who’s Marilyn? And how did you get out of your cell?” Patton let go. Remus crawled back. He dragged Dee with him, thus taking with him Patton’s ability to forget.

Waking up to sunlight instead of a screechy alarm was one of Logan’s small pockets of joy in the mundane. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. When he felt a hand on his leg which quickly grew into a whole body sat on his lap, he smiled lazily and gently traced circles into one of Roman’s hands, gradually interlacing their fingers together as he did so.

“Nice and sunny today.” Roman mumbled, nuzzling his face into the crook of Logan’s neck, planting kisses wherever his lips landed.

“Get that sweet, sweet serotonin.” Logan replied, his hand crawling up Roman’s arm to run his fingers through his hair. Roman laughed breathily. Logan felt his smirk against his skin.

“Is this not enough?”

“It doesn’t have to be.” He caressed Roman’s cheek, letting Roman reach up to take his hand. In one swift movement, Roman straddled Logan’s hips and held his face with both hands, leaning in for kiss after kiss. Logan wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in closer. Logan felt Roman smiling against his lips. Roman brushed his hand against Logan’s chest and pushed him down, following his lips with his own. Logan let his hands sprawl either side of his head and let Roman grip his wrists, pinning him to the mattress. They continued to kiss, muttering declarations of love in between. They were suddenly and rudely interrupted by a piercing and jarring screech from Logan’s phone. Roman let go and threw Logan his phone. With several swipes and taps, the room fell silent again. He looked up at Roman, whose cheeks had already flushed.

“Breakfast time?”

All the eggs had gone, so pancakes were not on option. They scoured the kitchen to find them, but none were to be found.

“We should ask Virgil for some of his recipes one day.” Logan said.

“We definitely should oh my god they were _so_ good!” Roman replied ecstatically, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “We should also spend more time with him outside of work, he was so much fun to be with.”

“It’s almost as if he doesn’t show his true self at work and he might actually be more complex and less one-dimensional than we thought.”

“I won’t engage with you in conversations about the nuances of people until I’ve had something to eat I am _starving_.”

When driving to work, the sun had vivified the sky even more into a bright blue almost like that of a spring day, despite being early October. Roman noticed Logan smiling absent-mindedly as he gazed out the window, passing orange trees.

“You seem happy?” Roman probed, not being able to help himself as he, too, beamed.

“I’m just thinking of how far we’ve come. To think that a few months ago I couldn’t get out of bed without giving myself a hate-speech that lasted for hours, and you just put up with me. Now we’re making friends with Virgil and even though Jodie and Dee have been just a nuisance… I don’t know but it feels like we’ve come so far.” Although Logan’s words filled him with doubt, Roman nodded and tried to agree.

“I feel like you’ve shown me parts of myself I never knew. I don’t have to always be the playful and dramatic one anymore. I’m allowed to be serious and be taken seriously. Thank you for that.” Then, Roman parked the car. Even from outside, the prison seemed quiet. Logan stopped him before he opened the entrance door.

“You look like you need a hug or something. Are you okay?”

“I’m alright. Let’s go.” He opened the door. He held it open for Logan. He closed it behind them, hearing the click echo around the corridor, and nothing more. When he turned, he was met with a visceral scene. He ran towards the lump next to Patton’s cage, trampling through the sticky and drying blood surrounding it, feeling it cling to the ground beneath his shoes. He turned it over. Dee’s face, white and lifeless as a ghost, faced him back. Roman looked up and back at Logan, who had backed into the wall and slid to the ground, a hand over his mouth and eyes so wide. His eyes trailed down to the rest of his body. His chest, his stomach, his shoulders. All so rich with punctures. His clothes and even his skin peeled around them, the sound of squirming flesh, the smell of hours-old blood and guts, some parts infected and even rotting already. Roman felt something shake inside him. Gruesome, grotesque, ghastly – it didn’t seem real. Roman pinched himself, grasping at his skin. He felt the twinge of pain, but he didn’t wake up; the scene around him didn’t change. Helplessly, he looked back to Logan, whose head was buried against his knees but his phone pressed against his ear. He waited.

“Logan Chandler of Montfort Prison, I have a crime scene…” He looked at Roman kneeling over Dee’s body. He had to put his hand over his mouth to force down a sob. “I just found one of my employees having been murdered I really need you to come down immediately.” He hung up the phone before they could respond. He choked out a sob. Hiding his face once more, he grasped and clawed at his hair. Roman looked around, his eyes filling to the brim and spilling over with tears, and noticed Patton crouched next to him. He reached out his hand through the bars and wiped Roman’s tears away, neglecting how his own tears cascaded down his cheek. He looked at Roman. He allowed a subtle, gentle glow to flow from his fingertips, barely bright enough for Roman to see. His tears stopped falling and Patton almost saw him smile.

“Don’t ask him about what happened.” Remus said with so much bitterness, but none aimed at them. “He barely remembers a thing.”

“Did you try to help him?” Logan asked, tentatively approaching the body. Patton nodded.

“He was already dead but I just kept trying. Please, believe me, I did everything I could, Remus saw me! I really tried!”

“We believe you,” Logan said, “I just need to check something quickly.” Surreptitiously, he hid himself away in his office. The ensuing silence unsettled them all. Roman looked around, doing anything with his eyes to avoid looking back down. In the corner of the corridor, next to Logan’s door, he noticed a security camera, and its lens was focused on Patton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to issue my sincerest apologies. This was unexpected for all of us, especially me. It won't get better.
> 
> However, I am updating my posting schedule to every Thursday and Sunday (it's almost 2am which counts as Thursday). I have other story ideas that I want to work on but I will only start once this is finished, hopefully more regular posting will help get it done quickly.
> 
> Thank you for reading, I really hope you enjoyed it. Feel free to leave any feedback and criticism, it's all greatly appreciated! :D


	32. Plans.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon realising that Dee's murder was filmed, there seems to be a glimmer of hope that will bring him justice. However, everything else being filmed afterwards might disrupt all of Logan's plans. When it comes to protection, he discovers that sometimes it can hurt too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the new posting schedule! 1am counts as Sunday. As you can probably tell, this story is coming to an end. I can't see there being more than five chapters left after this and I doubt there'll be that many more. Just a heads up! Please enjoy! :D

Roman tapped Logan’s door. That same second, Logan flung it open and pulled Roman inside.

“This is awful, Roman, I don’t know what do.” Logan cried, throwing his arms around Roman and pulling him in closely as he pressed his head against his shoulder.

“This might be a bad time to mention all the cameras that undoubtedly recorded Patton using his probably-illegal definitely-dangerous magic healing thing but I needed to tell you.” Roman reached a hand to Logan’s head and patted him awkwardly.

“That’s what I’m worried about! Because of course the first things the stupid shitty fucking police are going to want to see is the camera footage, and when they see Patton doing his thing, what will they do to him?” Logan could only squeeze tighter.

“I don’t want to know.”

“We need to review the recordings first!” He pulled himself away and tripped to his computer, clicking and scrolling and clicking and scrolling. When Roman got in view of the screen, Logan finally had the footage pulled up. Starting with Dee stood in the corridor as if he were waiting, and then, of course it was Jodie.

“Surprising literally nobody.” Roman scoffed.

“Shush, just watch.” Logan hissed. She pulls out her knife and jumps at Dee, who falls to the ground without a fight or another word. Hearing Patton beg for help broke their hearts. However, seeing Remus squirm and squeeze through his cell to drag his body over to Patton, once the confusion subsided, shattered them. How much blood must still be on his hands? Suddenly, it the camera seemed to glitch, and the timestamp skipped forwards by half an hour.

“Wait, what happened?” Roman took over control of the mouse and skipped back a bit. True enough, footage of that half hour didn’t exist. Logan sat back in his chair. Without warning, he jumped up and twirled out of his door, leaving Roman to follow in the path of his chaos.

Logan stopped and recomposed himself as he stepped back into the corridor.

“What happened after Dee got killed? Like, immediately after, what happened?” He couldn’t see Patton, but could hear his sniffles. He turned to Remus.

“Well, Patton tried to heal him, obviously?”

“Anything else? There’s a spot in the security camera footage that we just… Can’t see. Did anything happen that might have caused that?”

“There was a bit when the power went out?”

“That’s it!” Logan exclaimed with delight. “Excellent, thank you so much!” He turned back around and went to stumble back to Roman, who was actually already behind him. With a clumsy bump, the two shared a mutual look of ‘what next?’

“So, about what I did that you undoubtedly saw recorded but you can hopefully understand why I did it because you know we just wanted to help even though it’s very surreptitious…” Remus interjected, squeezing to be half-in half-out of his cell.

“We know, don’t worry.” Roman said.

“Just don’t do it anymore; I have a plan.”

“Logan, you’re all over the place!” Roman scolded after chasing after him once again and seeing him bright-eyed (if not at least slightly teary) at his computer. “You still don’t need to speed-run grief and I know what Dee has done was terrible but acting like you don’t care about what happened to him is cold!” Logan looked up and made eye contact. He seemed blank and, even though his cheeks were flushed and his eyes strained, his expression was fierce.

“Doing what I can to make sure Remus and Patton aren’t put in a worse situation than this is not the same as not caring about Dee. What else do you want me to do?” He asked. Annoyed though his tone was, and he did nothing to hide it, such sincerity in his question almost moved Roman to tears again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “what’s your plan?” Logan jumped out his chair and bounced, his hands pressed together as he went to explain.

“There’s probably some sort of physical proof of the power outage, right?”

“I don’t know enough about electricity to know.”

“Oh neither do I but I bet that’s not what people are going to be looking for anyway, and besides we technically have witnesses! So we need to delete all the footage after Jodie leaves. That mean we can save Remus since they won’t see him squeezing out of his cell, and saving Patton, too! And we can use the power outage to cover it.”

“Genius,” Roman smiled sadly, “I just really hope it works. Someone will probably recover lost footage is what I’m most concerned about.” Logan paled.

“What do we do?” His voice croaked. “I mean, you’re right of course, someone will definitely find what we delete if they don’t believe the power outage story. What else do we _do_?”

“Don’t mind me,” Remus waltzed into the office, bringing in with him the stench of some rotten creature. This, more than Remus’s audacity, was what the two minded the most. “I know you said not to do this but I overheard. And look, I can’t speak for Patton, but if you’re really truly concerned about us getting taken somewhere worse or _whatever_, is it possible to perhaps bring forward our sentences?”

“To _what_?” The two gasped. Remus only smirked.

“The thing is, as much as I like you guys, it’s so boring here and I’m on death row anyway – obviously talk to Patton about him first but I’m sure he’d say the same – dying here and now would be better than anything else you could do.”

“The sentences have to be approved by an outside authority, that’s what Annie and Lydia do.” Roman argued.

“But surely there’s a case to be made for exceptional circumstances? There’s been a murder, I mean, come on!” The three paused. Remus waited expectantly as Logan considered.

“We’ll see what the police say when they get here.” Logan said.

Everyone assumed their most natural positions. Patton had his back turned to the corridor; the mere sight of Dee’s body still strewn on the floor drove him to tears. Remus stayed inside his cell, and promised Logan to actually stay there. Roman mopped around the mile, worried that cleaning around the corridor would wash away anything needed by the police. Logan sat in his office, having texted Virgil not to come in today, and informing Marilyn of the incident, he fervently went about deleting any footage from all the security cameras after the power outage that wasn’t favourable to his cause. When the police finally arrived, they were exactly as Logan had expected: loud, aggressive, and power-hungry. There were only two of them rather than a team of professionals which Logan had expected.

“I have an enquiry – less of an enquiry and rather something I am telling you I’m doing.” Logan said, strolling as nonchalantly as he could towards them as the laughed and pointed at the wounds on Dee’s body. They gawked at him.

“What is it?”

“I am going to move the sentences of my current inmates forward as soon as possible, potentially as early as tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“If you’re going to do a full and proper investigation into this, which I should hope you do given that the state police budget has only increased and I should hope that that money is being used effectively, you might need a few months to fully close the case. Of course, I have video evidence of the murder but historically, that hasn’t led to a conviction in cases of police brutality, has it? If your investigation will last as long as it should then the sentences will be delayed. Lawfully, perhaps. But morally? Of course not.”

“What exactly are you saying, smartass?”

“Your investigation will likely impede on my ability to execute the sentences – no pun intended – and for that reason I will be moving them forward instantly so that we don’t get in each other’s way. You’re not welcome here tomorrow. Take this body away so I can clean up my corridor and then, after tomorrow, this place is all yours.”

After more time than Logan liked, over an hour of comments and points and pokes and jabs, the police officers left, taking Dee away with them. In his absence, the corridor fell silent. No amount of noise would change that silence. Jason and the hundreds before him hadn’t impacted the prison so much. Since Tony, there’d been a lifelessness that was too heavy to dwell upon, and now Dee was gone, an incurable, insufferable silence not only settled, but stayed and suffocated.

“So you’re moving forward our sentences.” Patton mumbled meekly.

“I’m so sorry,” Logan replied, “just understand that I‘m doing it to protect you both, otherwise I’d –”

“I understand,” Patton interjected, holding out a hand, which Logan took, “I’m grateful. I don’t even want to know what they’d do to us, and I don’t want to forget you.” He squeezed Logan’s hand tightly, looking over at Remus, whose eyes were fixated on the congealed remains of Dee’s blood.

“I’m sorry that this is happening to you.”

“It isn’t your fault that the system is like this. I just want you – I need you – to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“After tomorrow, I want you to quit. Good men like you, Roman, and Virgil have no business being here.”

“But what if we’re replaced with more Jodies?”

“If you stay, you will become a Jodie. You know this, I’m sure. You said you would do anything, you said you would risk your job for me to escape, now please put your words into action. After tomorrow, I want you to resign.” Patton grew teary-eyed again, clasping onto Logan’s hand as if it were life-support. Logan sighed.

“Sounds like a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, feel free to leave any feedback and criticism, it's all greatly appreciated! :D


	33. Happy Ending.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan has brought forward the sentences of Patton and Remus. Despite it being for the best, the emotional toll this takes on Roman and Logan hits them hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite the title, this isn't actually the last chapter. If all goes well, there should be two more after this one (the finale should therefore be next Thursday). I hope you enjoy! :D

For the rest of the day, there was so much to do: Virgil wouldn’t be coming in and Dee most certainly wouldn’t, so doing all the work to bring forward the death sentences of the two remaining prisoners so soon, and have them done on the same day, was placed on Logan. At least, all the work should, legally, have been placed on Logan; of course, Roman helped. Emails and phone calls and paperwork that only Logan could sign, the two frantically paced around the whole prison making sure everything was set, ready for tomorrow. They stayed two hours after their shifts should have ended to make sure it would all be done on time. Remus and Patton stayed silent the entire time, their empty eyes following wherever a sound would go. When they finally left, Remus spoke.

“It’s going to be okay.” Patton looked at him with a damp face.

“How do you know?”

“Because I’m going first, and I’ll be waiting for you.”

Roman got in the car first. He started the engine before Logan had even fastened his seatbelt.

“So,” he levelled his tone, “tomorrow is going to be a big day.” He did anything to fill the air. Logan nodded solemnly.

“I told Patton I would resign afterwards. Did I tell you that?” Logan’s voice was calmly monotone.

“You did. It seems after all this time, you finally found an excuse besides ‘I’m growing too accustomed to seeing people die’.” He quoted Logan in a caricatured posh, pseudo-bourgeois accent. Hearing Logan’s laugh emptied the air of tension. Suddenly, Roman was just driving home like any other day.

“I want you to quit as well.”

“Good. I’m glad I didn’t have to be the one to bring it up.”

“I didn’t think you’d be convinced this easily?” Logan smiled, so clearly tired.

“I’ve been thinking about it since our conversation with Virgil. No matter what we do, I realized that there’s no helping a system like this.” Roman sighed with a strange calmness. “Also, I’m cooking dinner tonight.” Despite everything, the rest of the journey home was tranquil and peaceful.

Clouds had settled into the sky by the time they were at home, though it was still light and the sky still blue and generally clear. Logan watched them float overhead out the living room window and soaked up the sunlight through the glass. Noises of general clutter came from the kitchen, as usual with Roman, but the fresh sweet smell that came with it made the noise worth it. The occasional mutters of ‘oh fuck’ and ‘what is this bitch even _doing_’ made Logan smile. Had he not been warned to stay out the kitchen so as not to ruin the surprise, he might have gone in to help – though he was perfectly content watching the sky slowly change with time, how it went from a bright blue to a light grey around where the sun set.

Half an hour filled with the sounds of bubbling and sizzling later, Roman called Logan into the kitchen. He could hear his own heart pounding and feared it would beat his ribcage if it went any harder, but he knew that, in reality, the kitchen would be fine, and so would Roman. At worse, he’d have broken a few pots or burned the whole thing. When he opened the door to the kitchen, the first thing he noticed was the smell: sweet, acidic, fresh. He looked on the counter to see two plates of something vibrant red that Logan couldn’t recognise atop a bed of white rice.

“Not to sound like a typical recipe blog,” Roman smirked as he watched Logan smile and blush in awe, “my abuelita wrote me this Cuban recipe when I finally moved out. I haven’t made it in years but after Virgil’s Syrian cooking from Gayatri, I wanted to make my equivalent.”

“It looks… So good.” Logan muttered.

“Try it! But be careful…” He smirked. “It might be too spicy.”

“What is it?”

“Oh! It’s called fricasé de pollo – basically a chicken stew. The rice was optional but I seasoned it with saffron and cooked it in a chicken stock instead of just boiling water.” Logan took a fork desperately. It tasted exactly like what tomatoes, cumin, chicken, garlic, and every other perfect blend of ingredients would. He would never admit it to Roman, who ate it calmly, but his mouth burned from spice. Roman would never tell him, but seeing Logan act like it wasn’t spicy despite being red in the face and teary-eyed made him laugh in his heart.

“This is so delicious…” Roman knew he was telling the truth (his own taste buds knew that). He also happened to find a joy in watching him gasp for air and try not to reach for some milk.

Hours and hours passed by. Having finished eating, the two had nothing left. No more distractions. Reality hit them like a bullet; painful, sudden, and generally unwanted. Roman gripped Logan’s hand.

“I don’t know how we’re going to survive tomorrow.” He said, keeping his eyes towards the floor.

“Poor choice of words.”

“Logan, please,” Roman sighed, “it feels like far too much all at once. How did our lives go from just meandering around with nothing happening to all of this?” Logan paused. Roman let a few tears slide down his cheeks silently.

“It isn’t fair on anyone,” he said, “but that’s just how it goes. When we’re done with tomorrow, we can try to find our own normal.” He watched Roman smile reluctantly. As he blinked, another few tears dripped from his eyes.

“We’re going to get our true happy ending.”

“One day.” Roman held Logan’s hand tighter.

“One day _soon._”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I really hope you enjoyed (ik this one was slightly shorter but hey c'est la vie) feel free to leave any feedback and criticism, it's all greatly appreciated! :D


	34. Bad Ending.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The three have to protect Remus and Patton in the hardest way possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm Sorry.

Evening, night, morning. The three all became the same to Patton and Remus. With no windows and the occasional glimpse outside only being when someone would open the entrance door, and dim flickering lights throughout the corridor, the only real indicators of time were whoever was working.

“So,” Marilyn said with crossed arms and tapping fingers, “you guys are really going through it.”

“How could you tell?” Remus laughed as an exhale though his nose. He and Patton had given up trying to smile.

“It’s not funny.” She said firmly.

“Don’t pity us.”

“I would never. This is barbaric and pity does nothing for you.” Remus and Patton looked at each other and nodded – perhaps in solidarity, but everything had just lost all meaning.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for us.” Patton whimpered, trying to keep his voice level. He would not cry out; he would be heard but not helped, and it would only hurt everyone more.

“I’m just doing my job trying to keep you guys happy and safe. Just because other people can’t do even that doesn’t mean I’m anything special for it.” She smiled. The corridor seemed to brighten up.

“It doesn’t mean it means any less. I live for kind people like you.” Marilyn approached Patton gently and held out her hand. With care, he reached out and met it. She gripped him firmly but with nothing but love and care.

“Truly, I wish you the best.”

When Logan and Roman arrived, it was clear that they had barely spoken a word all day. Logan’s voice was quiet as if he hadn’t practised it much, and Roman’s eyes were wide and attentive to predict what Logan needed. Both were twitchy and flushed in the face. Virgil arrived just minutes after them, and he, too, just seemed off. He scurried around like a lost mouse, following wordlessly (though not silently, his shoes scuffed the ground and he stumbled into every wall) after Logan. Patton felt his heart practically beating out of his ribcage. His hands shook and opening his eyes to the bright light sent his brain into a frenzy. He kept his eyes tightly shut, clutched his hands together and interlaced his own fingers. His knees wobbled no matter how he positioned them. He sat on the floor. He chewed vigorously the inside of his mouth. He tasted his own blood but had no care about it. Muffled voices that he didn’t care to listen to. An ancient-sounding click and creak and light footsteps that he couldn’t bear to hear.

“I’m so sorry,” Logan mouthed as the three escorted Remus to the chair. Walking the mile never felt so much like walking a mile.

“Don’t be sorry. Just quit.” He spat back. When they got to the chair, Remus forced eye contact with Logan. Logan’s eyes saw the outside world every day. Logan’s eyes saw something beyond the same walls every day. Logan’s eyes saw freedom every day. Logan’s eyes had the audacity to cry. He looked at Roman and saw the same. And with Virgil, too. Remus felt a burning inside of him that he couldn’t understand but it only strengthened as they strapped him to the chair and spoke their meaningless words and assumed their oppressive positions. He closed his eyes. He thought of Patton.

Not quickly enough, the mortuary was no longer empty. The smell was indescribably horrid.

Patton thought of Remus. The pain weighed down his heart but he dared not make himself feel better for fear of forgetting him. The three returned and spoke to him, but all their words jumbled. He opened his eyes but couldn’t see them. His vision blurred. Blinking away the tears didn’t help. His body ached and trembled. He felt a shove. Gently though they tried to be, dragging Patton along with them required some force. His feet scuffed the floor. He could barely be described to be taking steps. His head spun but his heart just felt heavy. Whatever fight there was left in him, it had given up. He tried to recall what he knew in his head but nothing came. He was forced to sit. He let it happen. Pressure wrapped around his wrists. Everything happened around him and he allowed it.

“I just want to say,” he choked, “that I will never forget you guys. My friends.” He didn’t see them nor hear them, but they sobbed. He felt an excruciating pain all over his body. The pain was only rivalled by that which he felt whenever he tried to help his friends.

The mortuary hadn’t had been so full in years. Virgil joined Roman and Logan home. They never returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is one more chapter after this to be posted on Thursday. I really hope you have enjoyed this chapter and this story, please feel free to leave your thoughts behind!


	35. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the end, Logan and Roman have tried to find their peace and get their happy ending, but the past is haunting and unforgiving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is less like a chapter and more like an epilogue. Thank you all for reading and leaving such kindness behind you, I'm really going to miss this story but everything has to come to an end. I hope you enjoy this chapter and I hope you enjoyed my story. While this isn't my favourite work, I really did put my heart into this and I think this might become my magnum opus. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy! :D

Thousands of nights had passed, but his eyes never became obscured, and his last words never muffled and jumbled. Thousands of days had come and gone, and never one where Logan didn’t think about Patton, and how the greatest thing evolution had ever created was ripped from the earth, condemned, and scattered within the ground on which he walked, the air he breathed, and every living thing he touched; all was part of Patton, but nothing quite the same. Logan lamented every hour since his loss. His despair was made all the more worse with the knowledge that only he and Roman lived on the earth knowing what they had done. Logan saw Patton’s eyes in Roman’s. Nothing had been the same since. They had nothing but memories of him.

“He saved our lives.” Roman said, his voice aged and dry. “He saved our lives and we killed him.”

“If not us, it would have been someone worse.” Logan tried to argue, but Roman was right. Roman reached out of bed and into the drawer, pulling out a small newspaper clipping. It was barely half a page.

“They didn’t even say Patton’s name, nor Remus’s. They made it about us.”

“And our collective resigning gained more attention than the lives of the people we killed.”

“It’s disgusting.” The two sighed. Their bones hurt and their hearts ached. Nevertheless, when they put their heads to rest and closed their eyes, they found their one place of solace; the solitude of sleep.

They lived their lives like anyone would. Logan and Roman would eventually die in the comfort of their own home with a heroic legacy – and with blood on their hands. The blood would not be an unfortunate spilling from happenstance, but an eager plunge into bloody circumstance. As they slept, every night they pondered if they deserved their happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's it! Thank you again for reading so much. I know my story isn't perfect, most of the characters had little impact on the plot and I have no doubt that there are continuity errors and I should have made sure from the beginning that the audience knew Roman was Cuban and Virgil was Syrian etc. I should have done a better job at planning. But this has been a learning experience, thank you for helping me along the way.

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to share any thoughts. Thanks for reading :)


End file.
